Chapter 4 - Hallowtide

[Cadrius]

A week has passed since the burning of Kingscross. For the first several days Heulwen had been convinced of pursuit, but no orcs were seen. As the nights passed without incident they began to feel less anxious if not safe. South and west they headed, staying away from the few roads that run through the Westlands. Even if they were not afraid of pursuit, too many of them would be picked up by a simple patrol to risk travelling openly. Instead they took to the rolling plains where few men had traveled before.

They passed a hamlet once, three days back, but it had been abandoned. A cautious inspection ensued, but anything of value had already been taken and the fields had been allowed to go fallow long ago. The buildings were half-collapsed and weeds and other hardy plants had begun to force themselves up between the floorboards. It could not have been Fairbrook. The age of the settlement could not be divined, but a dry riverbed nearby told a tale of its own. Lyr theorized that without the water the terrain became unfarmable and when the food became scarce the people followed suit.

Under Aleina's skilled hands the dwarf recovered quickly and by the third day he walked under his own power, much to Bombur's relief. Soradur did not speak much, but keept watch with the others and even aided in foraging with Rhotha'ah and Heulwen. Strangely enough he often volunteered to keep watch at the same time as Aashya, although he rarely spoke with her. There was little game in the area, but they did come across several edible plants. It was a bitter breed, but it nourished the body and quieted the stomach.

The nights were mild, but the rough winds gusted across the plains almost constantly. Even sheltering themselves they had to be wary of airborne bladegrass. One night while on watch, a large piece caught Dun by surprise and opened up a neat cut across his temple. Yet with tending it quickly mended as well.

And so, a week later, they find themselves standing outside of a village. Dusk is fast approaching and the wind is blissfully absent, and the gray-black clouds overhead promise rain. The mighty Eren flows on the far side on the village, helping make the nearby land habitable. There's far less blade grass here and far more river plants. A forest even sits off to the south of town and numerous farmsteads can be seen in the surrounding fields. It is in sharp contrast to the last village they came across.

The settlement itself is build with an eye toward the Eren. While obviously not a large trade stop for passing vessels, it does sport a set of docks and the buildings become more numerous and tightly packed the closer they get to the river. A smaller river flowing from the west feeds into the Eren and sits firmly between the companions and the village. From where he stands, Rhotha'ah thinks he can see a place to ford it, but a nearby farmstead and fields obstruct his view.

"I hate bloody human villages. Bet there's three score alone that'd turn their own mothers in just to get a shot at kissing a legate's arse," the dwarf grumbles. "So...what'll we do?"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

It had been a trying time.

In his dreams, the cowled Lyr had ran along the hard-packed, molten lava streets of Kingscross, screaming at the char-fleshed citizens to flee. As each one turned, he saw only his own face, with swirling Sarcosan patterns of ash snarled around his features.

Travelling had been hard; Lyr lacked the long stride of Dun or Rhotha'ah, and was forced to struggle through the ankle-snaring grass at the pace of the shorter women, scarcely faster than Soradur. Still, it could have been much worse; once pursuit seemed less likely, the pace was slackened sufficiently that even the scholar hadhad no toruble in matching it. And it was good to see Dun's spirits rise day by day, the longer they were on his father's trail.

And Aleina... was a puzzling torment to him. Mercifully, the torrent of her that had threatened to overwhelm all his senses when she had wielded magic outside the village had retreated. Now it was only her subtle, expressive grace and enigmatic beauty held his attention.

She still withdrew from him as if he was a leper. And the pain of that rejection, with it's implicit, all-consuming rejection, was a worse pain to him than the guilt of Kingscross.

Lyr cleared his throat, tucking his hands under his arms to keep them out of the wind, then asked the question that was perhaps too laden with ill memories for any of the others to vocalise. "Who... what precautions will we take so that this place may be spared the fate of... the last that gave us shelter?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Lyr's question jabs at her heart with mercilessly cruel spikes and her head snaps around to fix him with a baleful gaze. Their flight from the slaughter at Kingscross had left her feeling helplessly bitter and painfully ineffectual. Time had served to deepen her wounds rather than heal them.

There must be a way.

It was the mantra she had repeated to herself since she set out from the Eren months ago. The challenge had always seemed difficult, but she had been more than ready to try and solve it. To fight without hurting or letting others be hurt - truly a noble goal. Unforunately, the world was devoid of nobility. And now she was beginning to understand why. Yet there must be a way.

Mustn't there?

Almost imperceptibly, she straightens her bearing and forces her face to be calm. Lyr's question was valid. Aleina tucks her hands into the long folds of her sleeves.

"We must not reveal either Heulwen or Soradur. We must also consider that our enemies may have spies here, waiting for us. Our stop here will be brief. It may be best if only Dun and perhaps one or two others enter the town in hopes of gathering information about Dura."

[Berova]

Dun

For once, Dun was remarkably in agreement with Aleina, quite stunning actually. Dun nods in concurrence when Aleina completed what she had to say, and adds, "Yes... one or two others... Lyr perhaps? It shouldn't take long. Enough for a few discrete questions and maybe some supplies, saving us the time of having to forage so much. So... I'll require some goods in trade, some salt or herbs perhaps? Anyone need anything in particular?"

Dun removed his rapier and scabbard as well as bow and quiver, "I won't be needin' these until I return." and turned to Rhotha'ah hesitantly at first, "...brother...will you... take care of these?" The young Erenlander nervously awaited his blood brother's answer not used to asking anyone for anything. Before he made another request, Dun turned back to look at the others, "And take care of them..."

Lastly, Dun reached into his backpack and takes out his carefully folded peasant's garb. He quickly swapped off his traveler's outfit and donned a peasant clothes [modestly behind some vegetation perhaps].

OOC: For this day, Dun will be a hero among men +2 to all Cha-based skills

[Dirigible]

Lyr

As Dun slips behind a shrub to change, Lyr speaks again. These two sentances are almost the most words he has said to anybody in the past week of travel. "Well then. We three are the least obtrusive..." he says, gesturing at Aleina and Dun with a slight spreading of his arms. He doesn't elaborate on the obvious implication.

Suggest. Advise. But don't tell anyone what to do... that way, there is no blame for what will go wrong. Any of his companions that happen to be glancing at him at the time see a cloud of pain drift across the solemn sky of Lyr's features.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya hadn't been happy travelling overland. Heulwen kept them moving at a fast pace, especially at first when she was afraid that orcs were not far behind. Walking all day was bad enough on a road, but it was even more miserable going through bladegrass! By the third day, Aashya was convinced (again) that she never should have left the gnomes and tried to set out on her own.

Especially since she was heading back the way she had come. She couldn't help feeling that the farther she went south, the farther she would be from achieving her own goal - finding the place called Greenfield. It was only Aleina's conviction that south was the best direction to take that kept Aashya from doubting the way.

Now she stands with the others outside the village near the River. They are both welcome sights - the village because it means they can all stop walking for a while; and the River because..... well, Aashya is suprised to realize how comforting it is to see the wide body of water again.

The others talk about how to proceed. Aashya doesn't like the reminder that what happened in Kingscross, could happen again here. Aleina says, "... our enemies may have spies here..."

Our enemies. Our enemies?? Aashya has no enemies that she knows of. (Conveniently, she forgets for the moment the near-fatal gut wound she woke up with a few months ago.) Who is she to have enemies? She's nobody worth noticing, just a friend of the gnomes. And Izrador usually leaves the gnomes alone.

But now she has allied herself with Aleina and her friends. And she travels with a halfling and a dwarf. These people have enemies. It takes some getting used to.

She has slipped easily into the habit of speaking Trader since the dwarf woke up. "I have some tobacco for trade," she offers to Dun. And to Lyr: "Are you going to take that book in with you?

"And the rest of us.... Where shall we wait? We may be able to find a sheltered spot down by the River." She repeats this in Erenlander for the Dorn's benefit.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

The week of travelling in the wilderness had been invigorating for Heulwen. The continual sense of movement. The daily activity of erasing what she could of the signs of the groups passage. The challenge of choosing the best trail to take, or find a suitable campsite for the night, or to find enough food to feed he large group of travelling companions. Heulwen imagined that this is what it must have been like for her ansestors before the arival of the humans and Izrador. Of course, her anssestors would have only traveled with their own kind and the wogren, but this rag-tag group of humans (and a dwarf) are not bad travelling companions.

The thing she valued most about the travel, however, was the time she had gotten to bond with Cytaill. She found that talking with him was a little easier now, and she could do so for a longer period of time. On top of that, between the two of them, they had worked out signals that they each could use to communicate simple ideas with each other, even when they weren't speaking the same language. Heulwen felt closer to Cytaill now than ever before.

Now, however, these feelings of contentment were being pushed aside. The group had arrived at a human settlement. Here was a place where she was not in control, a place where she must trust the others and let them handle things she could not (as her experience in Kingscross has so clearly shown). Sarodur's words echoed her own sentiment well, she thought.

"No journeys to town for me this time," Heulwen comments to Cytaill before replying to the others.

"I have nothing to trade now. The spices I stole when escaping probably made the stench of Kingscross' burning only slightly more bearable, and the little game that was had this past week didn't have hides worth tanning."

"Before we go much further, however, we'll need to aquire gear for the winter. Blankets, cloaks, boots, and the like. Winter is fast approaching and trading for enough for all of us at once would attract unwanted attention. If you can, trade for a few of these items here. If we get them a few pieces at a time in the diffrent settlements we come across as we travel, we're more likely to go unnoticed."

Switching to Erenlander, Heulwen comments on Aashya's idea, "The river is likely to be more heavily populated. We should stay away from there as much as possible to avoid detection."

[Berova]

Dun

Dun thanks Aashya for the tobacco, "I'll try to get the best deal possible." Dun sniffs the smell, eyes the color, and feels the texture of the tobacco to assess it's quality and suitability for trading while the discussion continues.

Heulwen

"Before we go much further, however, we'll need to aquire gear for the winter. Blankets, cloaks, boots, and the like. Winter is fast approaching and trading for enough for all of us at once would attract unwanted attention. If you can, trade for a few of these items here. If we get them a few pieces at a time in the diffrent settlements we come across as we travel, we're more likely to go unnoticed."

"That all sounds quite prudent....and we'll do what we can Huelwen. Anything else, besides food I mean?"

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

The three Erenlanders make toward the village, leaving their more conspicuous fellows behind. Regardless of its allegiance, neither a dwarf nor a halfling with a wogren will be welcome. Even a Dorn with a shorn skull would draw perhaps too much curiosity. The bear what trade goods they imagine will be of use, having already made their plans with the others.

Much of the autumnal crops have been harvested, but long fields of wheat still stand, not quite ready to be reaped. They pass through one of these as they make for a ford. The day’s light grows weaker and Lyr cannot help but feel he is being watched while weaving between golden stalks of wheat. Yet no one but a few scarecrows bear witness to their passing. No men linger outside in the evening air, but faint light can be seen within the farmsteads. They are very much alone here.

The tributary is forded easily enough, and the night air is not altogether unpleasant, but they shiver all the same upon reaching the far bank. The village shows but little sign of activity. The few establishments that can be seen are closed for the evening. Light can be seen shining dimly through the drawn curtains of several homes, but it’s largely quiet save the sound of flowing water nearby.

Dun spots a building, much closer to the Eren, which looks to be a tavern. And if the light is of any judge, it’s open.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Aashya, Rhotha'ah

While the three erenlanders make a direct path for the village, the others skirt around it. They pass through similar fields of uncut wheat, but give the farmsteads an even wider berth than their companions. Three travelers may not cause suspicion, but a dwarf and a halfling surely would. It might be that these farmers wouldn't want any trouble and would keep their heads down. Then again they might send for the nearest legate so as to curry favor.

They stop briefly at the river while Aashya inspects it. The water is clear and cool and runs swifty to join the Eren. She can't recall the name, but it likely flows out of Erethor. The gnomes rarely spoke of the elves, but when they did it was as if they were speaking of a distant cousin, and not a separate people. Perhaps all fey are related somehow.

Water streams around her fingertips as they brush the surface of the water, and suddenly she's a little girl again. It's brighter, the air is hotter, and the water is nowhere near as clear or cool, but she's doing this same thing. She feels the flow of the water along her skin. There's someone else with her, a boy. He's perhaps twelve or thirteen. Still a boy, but approaching manhood. There's something about his eyes, a smile in them perhaps. And then he shoves her into the water.

Cytaill splashing noisily in the shallows brings her back. The world suddenly seems markedly darker and colder. The wogren stops and studies her a moment before lapping at the water and resuming his exploration. He's a creature of the plains; water is a rarity for him.

They find a place to ford further upstream, and resume skirting the village. As the day's light weakens they can only dimly see anything west of the settlement, but the village, and the forest south of it, still remain somewhat clear. If the clouds hold true to their promise, those trees will provide shelter from the rain.

[Cadrius]

Interlude - Kathryn

"Burn her!"

The cry was solitary at first. She thought it came from the thick jowled butcher, but she couldn't be certain. Within moments it was taken up by the teeming mob. Thronged in around her, she was only kept safe by the score of orc and human guards. That amused her. She was spared a death at the hands of the villagers so that he might kill her instead.

One man tried to break through the ring of guardsmen and received the butt of a polearm in the face for his efforts. He went down, blood gushing from his mouth before being dragged off by a pair of orcs. They were armed and armored heavily enough considering the smallfolk carried no weapons. Bearing halberds and black mail decorated only with the silver symbol of Izrador, they held back the crowd. Instructed not to kill any villager unless necessary, they still took delight in disciplining any that tried to get too close.

"Burn her! Burn her! Burn her! BURN HER! BURN HER!"

She hadn't even been given a mirror and some water to clean herself before her execution. Instead a guard had spat on her and offered her one last ride before her death. At that moment she had wished for nothing in the world but a dagger and a chance to geld him before being burned. Neither the blade nor the opportunity arrived. Instead she tried her best to look presentable. She wouldn't stand before them bedraggled and looking the part of a witch. They would see her for what she was. They would not bring her a dress from her home. They would not allow her to die wearing her family's livery.

Time had not been entirely unkind to her, but it had left its marks. Wrinkles at the eyes and around her mouth marred an otherwise comely face. She was heavier than she used to be, and her breasts were sagging, but she still could draw an eye, at least when they didn't know who she was. That was always the problem, she thought, recalling the countless suitors who suddenly lost interest as soon as her heritage became known.

The crowd grew suddenly quiet and she snapped out of her reverie. He was approaching now. The rope tying her to the wooden pole chafed at her hands and ankles, but she couldn't ask them to be loosened even if she thought that they would comply. She was gagged as well. They would take no chances with a witch. Several guards were dutifully dropping piles of wood soaked in oil around her.

Yet all eyes were on the man making his way through the crowd. A half dozen guards surrounded him and shoved smallfolk aside as they passed. He wore a shirt of black silk, dark trousers, soft supple boots and a jet cloak trimmed with ermine hung from his shoulders. Yet was his eyes, not his dress, that held her gaze. She shivered despite the impending heat. He strode right up to her, climbing up the makeshift pyre until his face was scant inches from her own. Those eyes. They were flat and cold and looked ready to devour her. She swallowed hard.

The man leaned closer, putting his lips to her ear and whispered. "Give him up and I'll have you taken down this instant. These vermin will never trouble you again. I have it in my power. All you need to do is whisper a sentence to me. One sentence. Tell me where he is and this will all end." She looked at him, uncertainty flickering across her hazel eyes.

"Have you ever seen someone burned?" His voice grew louder. "Your skin will blister and peel, but you'll live on in agony for quite some time. Do you want that?" Someone in the crowd cheered. "That pretty red hair of your's will melt across your skull before you die. Do you know how will feel? Do you?" He strode up to her again and whispered once more. "I do."

She struggled uselessly against her bonds while he turned and addressed the mob. "This woman stands before you accused of witchcraft and aiding enemies of the Shadow! She is the reason Greenfield has been plagued with troubles! She is the one to blame for your withering crops! She is the one to blame for the Fell attacks! She is the one--" He was drowned out by a roar of hatred from the crowd. They called for her blood. A young woman picked up a nearby stone and hurled it at her, bloodying her mouth. A guard backhanded the young woman with a gauntleted hand, sending her sprawling.

The man turned to regard her once more. "Do you have anything you wish to say?"

Terrified, she nodded. Forgive me, my love. Forgive me. Her eyes searched the crowd for the one she would betray. She spotted him in the back, a cowl pulled up around his face. The gag was removed from her mouth.

When she was finished the man smiled and stroked her hair like her father used to. "That's a good girl. Everything will be better now. You're safe."

It was three days before the stench of her burned corpse began to leave the village.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

While he and Dun wait politely for Aleina to hitch up her skirts and cross the shallow path across the river, Lyr surveys the swaying , ripe wheat fields along the way they came. When he sees the straw-filled homonculi keeping hungry birds away, he comments meditativly, just loudly enough for the other two to hear:

"I wonder why they use men for scarecrows. Are they really so afraid of us, when there are crueller things by far waiting in the night?" For a moment he is silent. Then he adds, even more softly: "Would men have burned Kingscross for no reason?"

Whether or not the others deign to respond, eventually they make their way towards the village. Lyr finds himself uneasy, never having been in two such settlements of any size within a week and a day of each other. He peers down alleys and around corners, looking for people out and about this late.

"Last time, we found welcome in a tavern. This time, it mgiht serve us better if we get a sense for this town, first." Lyr steps towards a window, and briefly examines it to see if it is bolted, barred, shuttered or otherwise reinforced.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Travelling in silence for the most part, Heulwen takes stock of her surroundings. These human settlements had a way of altering the landscape, disrupting the natural order of things and "taming" it for human use. And while Heulwen certianly didn't appreciate it the way a human would, it was a damn sight better than what an orc or a goblin would have left in their wake.

Noting the approaching weather, Heulwen concentrates on what they will need when they arrive under the shelter of the trees. A fire might attract attention, but may also be necessary for the health of their dwarven companion. That meant finding dry wood and protecting it from the weather. Wet wood, whether green or rain soaked, would smoke like crazy and while they might be able to hide the light of the fire by positioning it with a suitable screen between it and the town, there would be no hiding the smoke. Any fire that was made, if one was made, would have to be small and dry, and that meant suitable shelter.

"It will be a wet one tonight," Heulwen comments in a low voice to Cytaill.

[Berova]

Dun

When Lyr commented on the scarecrows as they went through the wheat field, Dun broke his silence and softly quipped, "Sadly, my friend, there are many men that would, and have..." Dun gazed upon Lyr's face as he continued, "...and you needn't have very far to look. Why, I've little doubt the Hound would've had many reservations... if that would've given him what he long sought." A slight chill came over Dun with the thought of that terrible man and the fact that there were many of his ilk in the world.

When they reached the tributary, Dun offered a hand to Aleina for balance as they made their crossing.

Disappointed they made it so very late, Dun wondered if it was better they had stayed together with the others until day break. Once they made their way to the village, Dun kept a wary eye and an alert ear out for strangers and strange noises.

At Lyr's suggestion, Dun again replied softly, "That maybe, but I'd think there'd be little but trouble about this time of day. Afterall, that's why doors are generally locked and shutters shuttered. If we'd look hard enough, there's a good chance we'd find it."

Curiously, at first, Dun looked at what Lyr was doing at the window. He then keeps a look out for anyone approaching, staying in shadow for cover. He would occasionally throwing a gaze back to Lyr to see his progress or for a chance to lend some assistance, if help was needed.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

She is one of the misfits now. At least if feels something like that.

Aashya watches Aleina, Lyr, and Dun head off for the village. She's left with the dwarf, the halfling, and the Dorn - the ones you really wouldn't want to be caught dead with. Or rather, if you were caught with them, you might as well be dead.

They make for the woods, Aashya trailing behind the others. They reach the little river flowing into the Eren and she pauses to savor the feel of the water on her skin. Memories are a flood engulfing her - the gnome rafts drifting lazily along the sun-dappled River; she and Gylda letting their feet dangle over the side to wet their toes. And then something comes to her, a memory from much further back in time. She lets the water flow over her fingers feeling as if the river were feeding the memory, giving it life. The boy seems so real, so alive! In a moment, he'll laugh and call her name. But reality intrudes, and the vision fades away all too quickly. Reluctantly Aashya follows Cytaill further upriver.

Whenever she looks up lately, Soradur seems to be loitering nearby. He says nothing and seldom even glances in her direction. But when she lingers at the river's edge, the dwarf is there too, having stopped to examine a rather ordinary-looking outcropping of rock. He continues on just ahead of her without saying a word. Well, they are a small party, so it's not surprising that she finds him close at hand much of the time. He probably just hung back to make sure she didn't get lost.

As they approach the trees, even Aashya with her limited knowledge of the outdoors can see that the clouds threaten rain. She is not cheered by the prospect. She catches up to Heulwen, and waits to be told what she can do to help make camp.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The channeler is silent, a ghost in the company of mortals, as the three make their way toward the town. The thought stirs the pit of unrest that her heart has become, sending a shiver of fear through her. Death held a special dread for Aleina but that wasn't the source of her chill. No, this moment's spectre was Kingscross; the thought of what happened there and her part in it had unburied memories of Brall. His death and her unwitting actions were too similar to Kingscross to be ignored.

She had no skill with weapons and had never been physically strong or quick. Dun holds out a welcome hand to help her cross the stream and she accepts it courteously, despite the bitter taste of ineptitude in her mouth. Even now, crossing this stretch of wilderness, she showed more stubborness than agility.

Always, she had used her mind and her looks to overcome problems. These things had served her well - she could live off the land or make her way in a city with equal ease. Yetthey were all but useless in the face of the hatred of the Dark One's servants. They cared not for what she said or how she looked. In the end, her only defense was the white hot flare of her magic. And she knew well that fire cared not who it burned.

A stealthy movement from Dun brings her mind back to the present. They are close beside a dwelling and Lyr is gingerly probing a window while Dun seems to be keeping lookout. Her urgent whisper cuts the darkness between her and Lyr.

"What are you doing?"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"If these people live in fear of beasts or the soliders of the Occupation, their windows will be barred." Lyr pauses, considering this for a second. "Of course, if the soldiers hold a particularly strong grip here, then such bars will be outlawed."

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

Most of the homes along the street have heaven oaken shutters drawn across their windows. No bars can be seen, but the wooden shutters could serve as a deterrant without standing in any direct violation of Shadow law. Lyr sees no one in his search save those in their homes. Figures can occasionally be seen moving to and fro behind the shuttered windows.

However on that street they do come across one unshuttered building. Little more than a shack, it sits slumped between two nicer homes. Faint candle light can be seen from inside. Lyr peeks into the window and sees an old man sitting at a table, his face looking down into an empty bowl. His hair is snow white, where it isn't bald, and a thin, whispy beard hangs from his chin. The young scholar watches for a time, but the man doesn't move save to breathe and blink. The bowl itself is plain, being cracked and well-worn. Several minutes pass and the old man finally pushes himself away from the table, blows out the candle, and moves to a moth-eaten cot laying in the corner.

Heulwen, Rhotha'ah, Aashya

Cytaill's tongue lolls as he shakes the river water from his fur. The wogren seems to enjoy being wet. He's still a young animal and hasn't seen enough spring rains to be used to so much water at once. He's happy. It's a rare enough feeling given the wogren's brutal introduction into Heulwen's life. Rhotha'ah offers to carry Heulwen across the river so that she needn't drench herself.

Once on the far side of the river, they pass through several more fields of wheat and other autumnal crops as they draw nearer to the forest.

And that's when they hear it.

"EEEEELIIIIIIAAA!"

It's a scream, likely a man's, and clearly full of panic. The rest is incomprehensible, but there is no doubt that it's coming from the farmstead nearest to the woods.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Heulwen is clearly enjoying Cytaill's mood, when everything is rudly interupted by a man's scream. Immediately drawing her bow, Heulwen knocks an arrow and looks in the direction of the scream. Cautious, Heulwen debates checking out the source of the scream. On one hand, what ever caused the man to scream could be dangerous to them, and forwarned was forarmed. On the other hand, what ever casued the man to scream could be dangerous and investigating could attract its attention.

Looking to the others, Heulwen waits to see what they have to say.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya freezes in place as the scream cuts through the still evening air. Her gut instinct is to drop down among the stalks of wheat and hide there until the bad thing that caused the scream goes away. She starts to duck down, but stops herself.

Things are different now. I don't have to hide. I- I'm not afraid, and there are good people with me. Maybe we can do something to help the person out there, the person who is screaming.

I'm not afraid.

Heulwen has her bow out and ready, and seeing that makes Aashya feel more confidant. She stands up straight and looks over at the big Northman. His strapping size and array of weapons makes her feel even more confidant. She only has a sling, which seems rather paltry in comparison. But she takes it from her belt and starts fumbling for her pouch of bullets, all while trying to force herself to breath normally.

"It came from over there," she says, pointing toward the farmstead near the woods. "Should we.. you know, go take a look?"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Despite all the pain, exhaustion and fear that he has felt on the journey since Kingscross, no, before that, since Voreen's tower, Lyr can only feel pity for the old man in his cottage. For a long time afterwards, he wonders why this is. Eventually, though, Lyr will come to understand that the human mind can put up with far more suffering if it makes even a token gesture of defiance, such as flight, or the ording of forbidden knowledge, than if it lies unprotesting against the earth.

"All right..." Lyr murmurs as he shuffles away from the cottage to where Dun and Aleina wait. "There is nothing more I can learn here. We should away to the tavern."

[Berova]

Dun

Uncertain what his fellow Erenlander found out and it did not appear Lyr was going to volunteer anything, Dun remained quiet. He was just glad they will shortly be leaving the cold dark night. The rough-spun garb he was still getting used to was a little itchy. With a glance toward Aleina, then back to Lyr, Dun spoke up again, "To the tavern then."

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

They leave the old man to lie in his misery and turn their backs on the hovel. Instead they make their way toward the river and the tavern located near it. They note the buildings as they pass; each of the humble shops and homes vary in size and stature, but none could be considered opulent. The village as a whole looks plain enough given its proximity to the Eren.

It's getting closer to full-dark now as they move up a side street and past a sod thatched abode. As they draw nearer to the river Lyr recognizes that the village, while seemingly dominated by humans, is set up in gnomish fashion. The buildings are set up in concentric circles moving away from the river. A modest open area in which to trade is set up closer to the river and they cross it on their way to the tavern.

The One-Eyed Fish stands in contrast to most of the other buildings in this village; it's actually making noise. Perhaps it isn't boisterous, but compared to the flow of the two rivers, it's practically a cacaphony of humanity. The three Erenlanders come to a halt outside the door and look at each other once before Dun opens the door and leads the way.

The interior is small but warmly lit, with a fireplace at the far end and lanterns and candles stationed about the common room. A bar runs along the far wall, well-worn and a few patrons are sitting on stools, nursing flagons of ale. A half dozen round tables are scattered throughout the room, and perhaps three of these have occupants as well. All of the patrons look to be men and most in their middle years. Within a few moments, the conversations fade as they turn to face the newcombers. A tall thin man appears from what can only be the kitchen and steps behind the bar.

"Strangers, eh?" He says, brushing a stray lock of thin dun-colored hair behind an ear. "Don't just stand there, you'll let out all the foul air we've got cooped up in here. Come in, come in. Best not to be out at night. Welcome to the One-Eyed Fish. I'm Callum and I run this sorry excuse for a tavern." He gestures for them to take a seat by the bar as he pulls three mugs from beneath the counter. "How about three warm, watered-down ales and a cramped, rat-infested room? I'm guessing you'll want the second if not the first. Don't think you'll want to be going anywhere else tonight unless you've got a boat."

Heulwen, Rhotha'ah, Aashya

Cautiously they move toward the farmstead, brushing through more unreaped wheat and past more emaciated scarecrows. The yelling seems to have subsided, but Heulwen thinks she can still hear noises coming from past the farm. When they emerge out of the field no one can be seen on the far side of the farm. A small barn is nearby and the sounds of some sheep and perhaps a pig can be heard coming from within. Wary of danger, they carefully skirt around the small, one floor house and out back. Heulwen and Cytaill stay on the near side of the corner, out of sight from the sounds of wimpering.

Laying on his stomach, in the small bit of land that isn't claimed for crops, is a weeping farmer. He looks to be as broad as Rhotha'ah, but likely a hand or more shorter. A thick, somewhat unkept mane of black hair hangs disheveled and covering his face. He's dressed simply in a roughspun tunic and breeches. In one strong hand he holds some of that black hair, likely ripped from his own skull. His chest heaves as he sobs and he murmers words that are mostly incomprehensible, all save two.

"Elia" and "why?"

At last he weakly pushes himself off the ground, dirt and grass tangled in his beard and snot. And it's only then that he becomes aware of the motley group staring at him. He gives a start at Soradur. One hand makes a vain attempt at brushing some of the mess from his face. The sobbing has stopped for now.

"W-who are you? I don't have much. It's inside. Some olive oil and spices. There's a pig in the barn and a couple good sheep. J-just take what you want and leave me be."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The scene before him is one that resonates with the Dorn. Over a week ago, he'd done much the same thing, and were it not for the steel knot of resolve within him to keep going, he'd still be doing it. The fact that the man is so similar in his build also helps to rekindle the sparks of sorrow within him.

Instead of bursting into tears alongside the farmer, Rhotha'ah steps forward and shakes his head, kneeling in both respect and deferrence to the man as the rightful tenant. "We mean you no harm, farmer, nor do we wish to take what you have left. We came because we heard screams, and feared for what had happened." He looks around at the grasses surrounding them. "If you would tell us, maybe we can help."

[Berova]

Dun

"Why thanks, Callum." Dun replies with a nod at the proprietor's kind words of welcome and a warm smile at his sense of humor as he takes the middle seat.

"Me name's Dun Abben an', well, we can always start with the ales, watered-down or not..." Dun picks up a tankard and takes a sip, if it is to his liking, he gives Lyr and Aleina a nod before taking a deeper draught.

"...as for the room, preferably one that's not rat-infested, if you have one, if not, well... then a rat-infested one will have ta be. Also, I know it's late, but we've been on the road fer a while, so to speak, and it's been long since we've last had a warm meal...ya wouldna' be able to arrange ta fix somethin' warm for three strangers just come out from the cold now, wouldya'?"

OOC: Dun's attempting to determine if Callum's trustworthy (whether his welcome is/was genuine) so Sense Motive +6 (or possibly +8 from another +2 hero among men)

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya hangs back, afraid at first. She is overwhelmed by the farmer's display of raw emotion, and feels inclined to look away; pretend, even, not to see. In cities and villages everywhere, that is what people do when confronted by a stranger's grief. Let the man draw attention to himself alone. She has nothing to do with whatever troubles him.

But again, she reminds herself that things are different now. She need not distance herself; she can, in fact, try to help.

Rhotha'ah steps forward and Aashya can see right away that the Dorn's presence unnerves the distraught farmer. No doubt! He practically bristles with forbidden weapons. Who else would carry such things openly but an agent of the Dark Lord? He probably thinks the rest of us are his slaves, Aashya thinks. She walks forward to stand by the Northman.

"That's right. We mean you no harm." She takes a bit of cloth that serves her as a handkerchief, and offers it to the man to wipe his face. He's been weeping over someone. His wife? A daughter or son? A death, maybe. Or was the loved one taken away? Aashya tries to be reassuring and helpful, encouraging the man to tell his story.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The Erenlander scholar stretches up into a seat near Dun, radiating awkward politeness and gratitude. As Dun talks to Callum, Lyr's gaze wanders the rest of the patrons, his nervous smiles perhaps not as reassuring and friend-making as it could be.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

She smiles warmly at the innkeep and his self-deprecating humour. As usual, the channeler is at home when it comes to dealing with people. Here, at least, that skill was still useful. Gratefully she accepts the ale with a nod and another quick smile before taking a sip and resting the mug on the table.

"Thank you, Callum. A room would be most welcome, and I am sure we will be more than happy with whatever you have available. We have no desire to be out in the cold and dark."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Hanging back in the shadows, Heulwen's first concern is not the humans troubles, but what has brought them. Is what ever it was still around? Nervously she sniffs the air.

"Warn." Heulwen orders Cytaill, adding his senses to her own. Glancing around, she listens carefully to any response the man gives to Aaysha and Rhoath'ah.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha'ah, Aashya

The sky is almost black now as the day's fleeting light escapes the land, and the farmer is silent for a long moment, his head turned toward the forest. He's partially illuminated by a lantern in the window of his home. The light spills out onto the ground, but does a poor job holding back the gathering dark.

He regards them with large, red-rimmed eyes and raises a well-calloused hand to make another attempt at brushing away the dirt and grass in his beard. He fails again. Even in the dimness Aashya can see doubt splayed across his face. Then he shrugs, as if to say he's nothing left to lose.

"It's me daughter, Elia," he says, his voice now sounding distant. "I sent her to get in the animals, damned fool that I am. Should've done it myself. Not safe for a girl to be out near dark. Not now. It's too late though. Much too late. They have her, and they'll marr--" his voice breaks, and he shakes his head again.

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

Callum sighs at their affirmation. "Might as well move the Eren while I'm at it. Work myself to the bone, I will. And for what? My tavern gets smaller every year. Five years ago I had a dozen tables, I did. And my wife was prettier too."

Dun studies the man, searching for any sort of guile, but if anything Callum speaks without any intention of humor. No mirth dances in his plain brown eyes his glumness seems genuine. He slides three ales in front of them. "It's always cold and dark here. One time the sun didn't rise for three whole days. Well, it felt like three days anyway. Time's like that when you have to sleep in the same bed as her.

"So what do you have for trade? Not that I can use much here. I may as well just give my ale and food away. Clothes off my back too."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

At hearing the man's plight, of his daughter lost to unknown men, Rhotha'ah tenses himself. The similarities between himself and the farmer were becoming more and more distinct, and though the darkness hides it, his resolve strenthens, his face tightening with grim purpose.

"Who took them? How many? And which direction did they go?"

[Berova]

Dun

Dun nods at Callum in agreement of dark times, "Aye, and the times 're only getting colder and darker."

When Callum asks about trade, Dun responds, "Hmmm... let's see, will this do fer the drinks, meal and room?" With his nimble fingers and Dun quickly picks off an appropriate amount of Aashya's tobacco leaves, offering them to Callum to inspect.

"Say Callum, do ya see alot of strangers come through here?"

OOC: Dun will try to barter for some food for the road as well, using his merchant profession and/or diplomacy (+2 bonus from hero among men) to get the best deal possible. I don't know how much tobacco she gave Dun.

edit: took quotes out, sorry, forgot

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

They'll marr-- What? They'll marry her? Is that so awful?

Depending on who they are, yes, it could be pretty awful, Aashya supposes. But still not so bad as it might be. When they'd heard the scream, Aashya had imagined that someone was being attacked, or tortured, or.. or worse.

She relaxes a little, and looks out into the night as if she might see Elia being led away by..... them. She waits for the farmer to say more.

[Cadrius]

Rhotha'ah, Aashya

He didn't think the farmer's shoulders could slump any further, but they do. His head droops and he stares at his hands as they lay open and palm up on his lap. A dorn he might not be, but Rhotha'ah suspects a man of his size must have some of the north in him. Seeing him here, wretched and broken serves as a chilling reminder of his people's fate.

"It's all my fault. She was just to bring them in...but...one of the goats ran. I...I saw her from the house. She went into the woods after it. I yelled to her. I ran. But she was gone when I got to the trees and" --shame fills his dark eyes-- "I couldn't go in. Not this time of year. We've already lost so many. I was afraid. I..." his voice drops to a whisper. "Oh, Elia. Forgive me."

Dun, Aleina

"Tobacco?" Callum asks, sighing as if the mere presence of the leaf is the harbringer of his doom. "I don't know. Last time I tried smoking my pipe, I almost burned the place down. Probably should've. Might've gotten a moment's peace then." A call from one of the other patrons has Callum sighing and fetching another ale.

And yet despite his misgivings, not to mention his prior accident, the tavernkeeper relents and agrees to offer up food, drink, and lodging for the tobacco. He mutters something about his pipe being the death of him, but seems about as happy as he's capable.

"Food should be ready soon. It's not like to be very good. Mostly gruel with a little fish. At least, I think it's fish."

Heulwen

She only half-listens to the man once he mentions some danger in the woods. The hairs on her neck prick up and she squints toward the dark shape of the forest. Yet the clouds are thick and even her keen eyes are dulled by the encroaching dark. Cytaill feels her wariness and grows more alert, turning his head back and forth to sniff the air. Neither she nor her wogren detect anything.

Lyr

He's wasted on this haggling. Dun seems at home entering into the dance of words, and Aleina, well, her mere presence seems to have men going out of their way to please her. Indeed, the scholar notes more than a few long glances coming from some of the locals in here. Yet there's something else in the air too; something that neither of his companions seem to have noticed.

Lyr counts the patrons in the bar, twelve in total, and all men. There's a darkness hanging over all of them. Even the few who stop to leer at Aleina quickly return to staring into their drinks. They speak in low voices about crops and the weather and boats. Yet what disturbs Lyr is that there's something there, some ubiquitous topic that isn't being discussed.

And then he notices a man sitting in a far corner by a low-burning fire. He's in his middle years with perhaps a tint of gray marking brown hair at his temples. He's dressed much like the others, in plain shades of brown, but there's one important difference between him and the other patrons.

He's watching Lyr.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Shame. The farmer can't even look them in the eyes he is so eaten up with it. Aashya grimaces as she listens to him ramble.

He couldn't go into the trees, he said. Not at this time of year. Not at this time of year? And now his daughter is lost. The poor man! But why won't he speak plainly?

"What are you talking about?" Aashya finally asks impatiently. "Who are they? Why won't you try to find Elia in the woods?"

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Seeing the man weakening as they speak, the Dorn's eyes narrow and he emits a low growl of frustration. "She went into the woods. What direction?" Despite the stoic look on his face, Rhotha'ah's eyes and posture betray his impatience - if the man wouldn't take back what was lost to him, then Rhotha'ah would have to instead.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr tears his eyes away from the man staring at him, feeling nervous pinpricks run down the back of his neck. Being observed so closely seriously unnerves the young scholar, and makes all the repressed secrets in his mind scream for release, until Lyr is sure that his hidden guilts must be written on his face.

"Pardon me, master... Callum?" Lyr asks the barkeep, his voice croaking a little. "I could not but notice... do you not have any barmaids?"

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

The woods. They had been planning on camping in those same woods not even several minutes before and here this farmer was absolutely terrified to enter them after dark. A shiver runs down Heulwen's spine as she thinks about the possible fate that might have awaited her and the others had this farmer's cry not diverted their attention.

Thinking about the farmer's cry, however brings back to mind the reason for it. The farmer's daughter had entered those woods, and whatever was in there scared the farmer so much that he wasn't willing to risk himself to save her.

Goats. The man said his daughter was bringing in the goats. Looking around, Heulwen tries to locate the goat pen.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Barmaids?

Her ice-eyed glance falls on Lyr for a moment, then quickly scans the room. Her gaze travels across the patrons like the beam of a lighthouse, tension rising inside her as she realizes what the scholar has already guessed. Aleina was so used to ignoring the impolite eyes of men that she hadn't noticed their unease.

Was she the only woman here? Her mind tumbles over the possibilities of what that meant and how this blunder might affect them. As ever, she keeps her emotions hidden and calmly waits to see what happens next.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

She and Cytaill leave the two humans to their inquisition. She knows better than to try and question the man. Having little patience, Heulwen circles around the far side of the farmstead with her wogren padding beside her. The light from the house is dim, but it serves enough for her purposes.

The pen itself is connected to the barn located about fifty paces from the home. No livestock can be seen at this time. If anything they were likely gathered inside. The gate to the pen hangs half-open. As she draws nearer to the barn her suspicions are confirmed. The telltale sounds of animals can be heard from within.

Lyr

The question is innocent enough and Lyr congratulates himself for being so perceptive, or he would, if not for the sudden attention of every set of eyes in the room. The pressure of so many eyes bore into him and the discomfort he felt before multiplies. Callum looks more glum than usual.

“Barmaids? I wish. Haven’t had a barmaid since—“
“That’s enough, Callum,” a man sitting at one of the tables says, his voice rumbling with displeasure. “They’re just passing through. They don’t want none of our troubles. Isn’t that right lads?” There’s a general, incomprehensible murmur of agreement.

Rhotha’ah, Aashya

“S-she went just over there”—he points toward the now dark forest—“but I can’t go in. They’ll find me. They know when you’re in there. But she’s gone. Me sweet daughter is gone. She deserved better than this. I thought it would end with her mother, but it hasn’t. They want more. They need more...”

The farmer breaks down once more, lost and weeping amidst memories known only to him.

Aleina

While Callum answers Lyr’s question, Aleina carefully surveys the room. She tries to do it as nonchalantly as possible, but it’s a small tavern and with only a dozen occupants her intentions are hard to mask. She notes that as soon as Lyr speaks the entire room grows quiet. Each of the men are keenly interested in the exchange between the scholar and the bartender. Yet out of all of them, there’s one man in the back, sitting by a low-burning hearth that seems especially interested. He’s leaning forward now, his drink cradled between his hands.

One of the men, one sitting at a table, speaks out. He’s dressed slightly better than the rest, although that isn’t saying much. He takes a long pull from his ale and turns to look at her. Their eyes meet and can feel gooseflesh rise along her arms and legs. She expects lust, she’s seen it often in enough in men’s eyes, but instead there’s something else. Something she can’t name. He takes another drink and smiles. “How long you three planning on stayin’ here?”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Sniffing the ground near the gate, Heulwen searches with eyes and nose for the signs of a human girl in amongst the clutter of animal tracks.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Sensing an increase in observation, Lyr shifts uneasily. He glances around, hoping that one of the others will take the pressure off him - until he sees Aleina talking to one of the men in the crowd. For a reason he can't quite fathom, the Erenlander decides to keep the people in the bar talking so she can carry on her conversation with less attention.

"Where are they?" The words are offered to the crowd as a whole, including Callum, and the stress on the word 'they' indicates a more general feminine sense than just the barmaids.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Exposure was vulnerability. Predators knew it; they preyed upon the weak, the young, the unsuspecting. Prey knew it; they stayed huddled, grouped, hidden - hoping to avoid being solitary, a sure beacon for unwanted attention. Women and channelers shared this in common: they were both prey.

Aleina suddenly felt alone in the dark, unaware of what stalked the impenetrable blackness around her. Was it only shadows or was it the grim predator come to pluck her from this world and into the next?

Yet she was no yearling out on her own; she was wiser than that. To show fear was to invite attack, and though Aleina knew better than anyone her own weakness, she also knew her own strengths. Her gut told her to hide, to flee, but her mind was built of steel and stone and not so easily cowed. Her face stays calm, her bearing remains controlled.

"Not long, I think."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"Where is she going?" Aashya mutters under her breath. She can just barely make out Heulwen and Cytaill moving off in the direction of the farmhouse before they are swallowed up by the night.

The farmer points toward the forest, indicating the place where he'd seen his daughter last. But he doesn't answer Aashya's question - Who are they? Aashya can see the look of determination in Rhotha’ah's eyes. He's ready to go in after the girl.

Hold on a minute, everybody! Aashya thinks. Heulwen has already wandered off and is out of sight. If Rhotha’ah takes off too, Aashya will be left alone with the dwarf and the distraught farmer. She puts her arm out and stops the Dorn before he can make a move to go.

"Wait," she says, then chews on her lip, nervously. "I don't want you running off getting lost. Let's stay together. Heulwen went that way, around to the other side of the house, I think. Let's go catch up with her, and then... then we can decide what to do." She doesn't even want to think about going into the woods.

She starts out after Heulwen, saying nothing more to the farmer. It is full dark now, and heavy, rain-laden clouds shroud the moon and the stars from view. Aashya can barely see where her feet are going, and in fact, she walks with her hands out in front of her, feeling for any obstacles that might suddenly loom up in her path. She aims for the pale yellow light gleaming fitfully from the farmhouse window. As she walks along, she explains to the dwarf in the Trader's Tongue about the farmer and his daughter.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

As the Sarcosan woman places her hand gently on his arm, his gaze softens a little as the heat of determination dissipates and cools slightly. "Of course - we should go in as a group. We will have less chance of being caught unaware with more eyes and ears at our disposal."

Rhotha'ah turns and follows Aashya, placing his large footsteps atop her own as she leaves them behind her, as they try to find the dwarf and the halfling woman.

[Cadrius]

Rhotha'ah, Aashya

Soradur follows along behind them and they leave the farmer alone with his thoughts, kneeling in the dark. It's almost too dark to see now as they move from the farmstead and toward the barn. Grass is crushed softly under their feet and Soradur mutters something to himself about humans. Their vision is so impaired that they don't even see the halfling until Soradur points to her and the wogren, two small shadows next to the larger one of the barn.

Aleina

Aleina sees the man scowl as Lyr presses his questioning. His eyes narrowing slightly, he looks past her shoulder and at the young scholar. The tankard is raised once more to his lips and he takes a longer pull than before. Finishing he sucks the stray ale from his moustache.

"Not long is good," he says, fixing his gaze upon her once more, black eyes meeting cyan. She doesn't blink or look away, maintaining her chill demeanor. A moment passes, then another, and then the man simply smiles at her. It doesn't quite touch his eyes.

"Then welcome to Fairbrook, lass. Name's Shalm. We hope you enjoy your stay."

Heulwen

Crouching slightly, the halfling takes in the smells lingering in the night air. Cytaill follows suit and meanders back and forth, sniffing. The first and most obvious scent is that of moisture. If it does not rain tonight, it will on the morrow; she can almost guarantee that. Beyond that the odors become harder to distinguish. Each is a fine layer that's intermingled with the others and only her nose can sort them out.

The animals are the second strongest there: goats, yes, and a pig or two. The farmer did not lie earlier. Yet the girl's smell is harder to find and Heulwen only finds it by the smell of flowers. She doesn't know which kind, but she smells them here despite the lack of any flowering plants nearby. The girl likely wore them in her hair.

She hears the others approach her, minus the farmer, long before Soradur points her out. In the dark she can the two humans shift their heads back and forth before finding her shape. It is getting quite dark now. She'll probably need a light if she wants to search any further tonight.

Lyr

Boldness isn't his defining characteristic--nor courage for that matter--and yet he finds himself summoning up whatever bravery he can muster and restating his question to the tavern. The response is almost uniform. Callum suddenly finds his own feet to be the most fascinating things in Aryth while the other men seem now content to stare into their drinks. The only exception is the one by the fire. He still watches Lyr with dark, inquisitive eyes. The scholar suppresses a shudder while Aleina speaks with another man nearby.

And then, so quietly that Lyr almost misses it, Callum mutters something.

"They left after the others started to go."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"I can't see a blasted thing!" Aashya whispers hoarsely, then curses in frustration as she bangs her toe on another protruding rock. The party can't go much further without a light.

But where are they to go anyway? Aashya has no desire to go on into the woods now either to make camp or to search for the farmer's missing girl. She can hardly imagine what has frightened the man so, but if it prevents him from trying to rescue his own child, it must be terrible indeed.

"Heulwen!" she calls out softly when they reach the barn. "What are you doing?"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr looks around the room, his face displaying open surprise and curiosity. Nevertheless, his mind moves rapidly. Calculating the vectors of misery and plotting the lines of other’s dark intentions, he comes up with several very unpalletable possibilities.

With as much sympathy as he can inject into his tone, he asks the inkeep: “Was it slavers, master Callum? There are... I hear that there are many places that suffer under their predations.” Lyr mentally berates himself for that slip; if the watcher is, as one of his more dire (and therefore inevitable, given the way of the world) suspicions screams, a Legate, then the last thing he should be doing is branding himself an illegal itinerant.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Rolling her eyes when Aaysha calls out, Heulwen looks up from her search for moment to make out the shape of the others coming her way.

The girl has no sense of discretion.

Waiting for the others to get close enough so that she can speak in a low voice, Heulwen replies, "I've found the girl's trail, or at least its start. Any effort to follow it, however, will require a light. These clouds make for a dark night so that even I have trouble seeing."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The channeler is perturbed by the man's behavior. At first she had feared what Lyr was now investigating: slavery. Yet these people did not seem threatening to her. Shalm's manner was strange and she could not quite understand why.

"I am sure that we will."

Aleina's answer is spoken almost neutrally, still unsure of the game she was currently playing. Perhaps they should leave, find another town for Dun to mine for information . . .

At the thought a chill wind blows across her soul, sending black spots dancing before her eyes. The room dims, sound dies away, and for an instant she is alone with the rotting husks of the patrons. Shalm's teeth are clearly visible through the sloughing flesh of his face; within the ruin his eyes pierce her mind, somehow menacing and pleading at once.

And just like that, the vision disappears - a wisp of fog shredded and pushed aside by a gale. She folds her hands into her sleeves and her eyes scan the room once more, the thoughts going through her head a confused jumble.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"Why did you wander off like that?" Aashya asks Heuwlen when they meet at the barn. "The farmer is terrified of something nearby, and you disappear into the darkness, alone!"

Aashya is scared. The wind picks up, spitting occasional, fine droplets of rain into her face, and chilling her to the bone. She tells herself that it's the change in weather that makes her feel so cold, but it might be something else.

Of course she realizes that Heulwen wasn't really alone when she followed her nose to the barn - the halfling had the wogren with her. Aashya hadn't actually been so much worried about Heulwen wandering off into danger as she was concerned about the group splitting up more than it already was.

"Let's stay together," she says again, this time with a note of pleading in her voice. "Roth, I know you want to find the girl, but you have to be sensible. We can't see a thing out here! What good will it do us, or that man's daughter, if we stumble around blind in the dark?

"Let's get him back into his house, and calm him down. If we offer to help him find her in the morning maybe he'll let us sleep inside tonight." Even in the dark, the others can see that she is staring nervously toward the forest. "We don't want to go into the woods... yet."

[Berova]

Dun

A feeling of foreboding overcomes him as Dun remains quiet, trying to listen and take in all that is being said and not said, trying to make sense of it all.

OOC: Cad, PM sent.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Just to spite Aaysha for her rebuke, Heulwen very nearly turns around to head for the woods right now. What right did this girl have to tell her what to do? Heulwen may still be young, but she'd probably seen far more than Aaysha in her years as a slave to orcs and worse. She knew how to take care of herself.

That common sense, however, quickly brings her back to reality. Aaysha was scared, much as the farmer was, and a fear of the unknown was perhaps one of the most powerful in Aryth. For what was unknown to men, was probably known to the Dark God, and what was known to the Dark God, was invariably evil.

Shaking her head clear of such forboding thoughts, Heulwen steels her resolve, refusing to give into the fear as Aaysha seemed to be ready to do.

"If the farmer's fears are justified, whatever chance the farmer's daughter has, if it is not gone already, will be gone by morning. Are you willing to leave her to an unknown fate while you sleep in her bed?"

Heulwen's voice, when she asks the last question, is not harsh or bitter, as her words might suggest, but honest and open, as if she were asking about the weather or dinner.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya shivers as a weight as cold and heavy as an anchor stone drops into the pit of her stomach.

"Heulwen, please!" is all she can say in response to the halfling at first. Her cheeks burn with shame, but really, why should anyone expect her to take this kind of risk for a stranger? The girl's own father was too afraid to go looking for her, though he obviously cared much for his daugher. If he won't do it, why should we? she wants to say.

The thought of going into the woods terrifies her. Even under the best of circumstances she doesn't like the forest. Wild animals.... Dark shadows.... Sinister apparitions lurking behind twisted tree-shapes. It is a primeval fear.

And the girl's own father is too afraid to go in! Aashya can't help coming back to that thought over and over.

"It's dark," she finally says. "We'd fall into a pit or something, and you can't follow tracks without light. We'd need to carry torches, and then... and then we'd be easy to spot."

But Aashya knows that they are going to do it anyway. How can she argue in favor of leaving the girl to her fate, of doing nothing?

She wanted to make a difference in the world, and here she has found her first real chance.

[Cadrius]

Lyr

The sincerity rings flat in his ears. It strikes him as odd that it should sound so. After all, if these men truly did lose their wives and daughters, wouldn’t he feel sorrow? Or would their loss pale in comparison to what he’s never had? The scholar shoves the thought aside as Callum replies.

“No. No slavers here,” he says with his characteristic glumness as if armed men stealing their women would be a welcome change. “Some of them just”—he catches a wary glance from a nearby patron—“vanished. Been happening for a while now. They even sent a patrol here, but they didn’t find anything. They didn’t want to go in the woods. I asked if they wanted to take anything out of my stores, but they said no. Can you believe it? Said they’d rather drink mule piss than me ale.” He sounds hurt.

Aashya

The forest is not a familiar sight. She’s seen trees before, of course she has, but they don’t feel familiar. Her people are creatures of cities and plains, not woods and groves. While things can lurk in the rolling plains, they can do it much more easily in a forest. Shadows lay thickly and a predator could find many places in which to ambush a unwary sarcosan girl.

But his daughter is missing.

Fear wars with conscience and the together they wreak havoc on Aashya’s soul.

Soradur clears his throat and lightly taps Aashya on the elbow. “Ah, what’re we doing out here now?”

Dun

Dun pretends to study his ale, taking an occasional pull for effect, and listens intently to as much as he can. Callum had only half-lied when he said that the drinks were watered down. Dun’s had much better than this, but he imagines it could get the job done. Casting a quick glance around he wagers these men could use it.

Their conversations resume, and they seem to have relaxed slightly. Perhaps it’s due to Shalm’s apparent acceptance of Aleina. Or perhaps they’re too weary to be suspicious. Either way, Dun listens.

The men talk of the harvests and fishing and when the next gnome ship is due. The missing women never even come near the conversation and Dun can tell that those sitting closest to Lyr are becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the scholar’s questioning.

Heulwen

Despite her naiveté, Aashya does have one good point: they’ll need torches for this and that will make them far easier to detect. If it’s men then they’ll need light too. They can’t be camped too closely to the forest’s edge or else the townsfolk would’ve been able to find them out. Yet Heulwen isn’t certain that this farmer would be so terrified by men alone.

The lack of knowledge is unsettling. She wracks her mind for any scrap of information to help, but nothing comes up. If a predator was hungry enough, they might very well snatch a girl over a goat or a pig. Grass cats have been known to stray into the woods in search of prey from time to time, but she isn’t as familiar with the forests as she is the plains.

One other possibility enters her mind and she likes it not. Fell. A newly risen Fell would have enough guile to wait until the girl was just close enough to the woods to snatch her up and if there were more than one…then the farmer would have plenty of reason to fear indeed.

Aleina

Sometimes her visions can take a while to leave her. This is one of those times. The thought of what has not yet come to pass can often be far more real than any true memory. The fact that they so very often come true is worrisome, but then again, she has seen worse. Not much, perhaps, but there have been worse visions.

Shalm nods his head, seeming to accept her answer, and then goes back to speaking with another patron. The mood hasn’t changed much in the One-Eyed Fish but it hasn’t grown more hostile. For that Aleina is grateful. She hasn’t fled across the Westlands from certain death only to be made into some pleasure slave.

The men here have gone back to their conversations, but the topics remain the same. Despite the sudden presence of Aleina and her companions, these men do not seem willing to speak of the women. Well, except Callum, but he seems happy to talk about anything that’s not. Yet even the dolorous bartender doesn’t divulge much in the way of details. He seems to know better than to do that.

Except…what did he just say about the woods?

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

She'd almost forgotten about the dwarf. She had explained the farmer's plight to him as they'd walked in the dark to the barn. But now he must be wondering what she and Heulwen were saying to each other.

Aashya switches back to using the Trader's Tongue.

"We're trying to decide what to do," she says in answer to his question. "I thought we should wait till morning to look for the girl, but Heulwen thinks that by then it may be too late to help her."

The dwarf is just a stocky shadow among other, less substantial shadows in the dark, except for the glint of his eyes. Aashya wonders what he thinks about the forest, if he fears it as she does. It's hard to imagine that grim face, emblazoned with such fierce tattoos, showing fear. Remembering that he can see better in the dark than she can, Aashya sets her jaw and tries to banish the demon of fear from her own mind.

"We'll need torches to see by.. if we go in now."

She starts to say more, but finds that she can't.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The woods

Her heart skips a beat. The same wood the others were headed for? She turns her eyes toward Callum, projecting relaxation as best she could. Her tone stays conversational.

"What has a patrol to fear of the woods?"

Inside, though, her mind has already moved past his answer. No matter what he said, she would need to confer with Dun and Lyr in private. And who was the man Feyd had named? Not Callum.

[Berova]

Dun

Taking in everything that has been said thus far, and all that have been left unsaid, Dun liked it less and less.

He concludes, they've given up. They've resigned their loved ones to their terrible fate, whatever it may have been. Dun's initial impulse was to scream out at them, "Never give up! Never give in! Never abandon your loved ones!!" But alas, Dun knows now, as he have always known, little good that would ever do. Besides, even an orc patrol, for some reason, had feared to venture into the woods. What an awfully strange thing to hear. But what may be even worse is what's in those woods. Dun shudders at the thought, letting his imagination run wild.

Dun continues to try to read Callum's body language and gauge his reaction to Lyr and Aleina's questions.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"Ahh, well." The conspicuity of the sensitivity of this topic begins to wear on him. Lyr takes a long sip of ale, concentrating so hard on thinking that he doesn't notice the flavour at all.

Which is probably a small mercy, all things considered.

Unfairly, his companions are still relying on him to thrust to the heart of this conversation. Gathering his courage, Lyr continues to ask questions around a theme, unhappily calculating their chances of making a break for the door when these locals get tired of his prying. Whatever his flaws as a friendly conversationalist, however, his nimble and rational mind is good at seeking out the essential facts of the matter.

"What do you mean, 'vanished'? Did they disappear indoors during the night, or in plain sight during daylight? Were there signs of struggle, or missing possessions?

"How many have you lost? Were there any similarities or patterns of age or marital status in the women?

"A patrol? From where?"

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"A lantern would be better," Heulwen replies, "Ask the farmer if he has a bull's eye lantern. That way we'll be able to control the light better and cover it up if needed."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

As the two women and the dwarf speak to one another in a language unknown to him, the big Dorn starts getting edgy. There was a girl missing and every second they wasted talking about what they were to do meant that she was getting further into danger, closer to death.

He starts to tap his foot back and forth, impatient with the inaction and needing some way to release the tension building within his body. He wanted - no, needed - to hunt.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Noting Rhotha'ah's impatience, Heulwen switches to a language he can understand and reiterates her suggestion, "We're going to need some source of light to follow the girl's trail. One of you should ask the farmer if he has a bull's eye lantern we could borrow. It'll be easier to manage the light from it than from a torch. Allowing us to hide the light, if needed, without putting it out."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

A bull's eye lantern.....

Aashya thinks that she knows what Heulwen is talking about - a lantern that will shine brighter than torchlight, and in just one direction. It's a good idea, better than carrying torches. IF they can get the farmer to let them borrow one.

She doesn't like what the halfling has to say about hiding the light if they need to though. It's all too easy for her to imagine the utter darkness that would surround them with no light out there in the woods.

"I'll go ask him," she answers Heulwen, turning back toward the field where they'd left the farmer. "Come with me?" she asks with a hopeful glance in Soradur's direction. She'd feel more secure with the keen-eyed dwarf going ahead of her in the dark.

[Cadrius]

Aleina

What could frighten a patrol? The possibilities worry her. Be they orcs or humans in the service of the Shadow, it would take a good deal to convince a score of hardened soldiers to that their interests lay elsewhere. Yet what would do it? Brutal resistance could. Several dozen well-trained rebels could make the thought of traveling through the woods a less-than-ideal proposition. However, if there were rebels here, would there really be an issue with women going missing? Unless the rebels required payment…

Elves could do the job far better than the rebels and intimidate the hell out of any would-be shadowfriends. She’s heard tales of the resistance they put up even now in Erethor. Some say they’re as good as invisible when in the forest and that one doesn’t see them until it’s too late. But why would they be here? And what would be happening to the women?

The last possibility is the supernatural. A spirit, or a collection of spirits, could cause enough trouble to ward off any investigations. It would take a legate of no small power to banish them and perhaps the church doesn’t care enough about Fairbrook to put forth the effort. Or it could be newly risen Fell. Orcs have little love for the dead. Then again, they have little love for things that don’t feel pain.

But Callum is unwilling to answer her question. He shakes his head quickly and looks down, filling another mug with his watered-down ale.

Heulwen, Rhotha’ah

Aashya and the dwarf move off toward the farmstead. Heulwen notes that the young sarcosan seems downright quiet in comparison to the dwarf’s bulk. But dwarves aren’t built for stealth. Turning her eyes to Rhotha’ah, she realizes neither are dorns.

She sniffs again, trying to catch any more hints laying in the night air, but discovers nothing beyond the familiar scents of her companions. Rhotha’ah smells of oil and leather and dried sweat. Soradur’s odor is similar but has less leather and more stone in it. Perhaps the legends of dwarves being forged out of the earth itself were true. Aashya though, smells of almost nothing at all. She could stand a bath, but beyond that it’s quite neutral.

Rhotha’ah squints his eyes in the dark. Light from the house sheds little enough for his eyes out here. The halfling has the right of it when it comes to a lantern. It’s hard enough to see now, in the thick of the woods it would be as good as a cave. The secrecy is likely needed, but it doesn’t sit well with him. Better by far, in his opinion, to light up as many torches as they can and try and take the girl back by force.

Provided she’s still alive.

Dun
Callum is nervous, that much is plain as day. He doesn’t like being asked all these questions. His frown, while likely close to a permanent feature of his, deepens at some of the inquiries made by Lyr and Aleina. Upon second though, Dun supposes that Callum isn’t so much nervous as he is uncomfortable. Perhaps he doesn’t like talking about the missing women in front of the other patrons. Perhaps he has something to hide. Either way, he isn’t happy.

But given his demeanor, Dun wonders if Callum is ever happy.

Aashya

Soradur nods and walks next to her, a stout, but comforting, shadow amidst the rest of the darkness. Their feet softly crunch on the grass as they make their way back to the farmer. They find him in the exact same position as before: kneeling upon the ground, staring at his open hands. He barely moves, even when Soradur clears his throat to indicate their presence.

Aashya asks him as gently as she can about a lantern. It takes a few moments, but the farmer finally responds.

“Bull’s eye?” His voice sounds distant. “No, Elia. We’ve just got the hooded ones over the hearth. You know that.”

Lyr

His questions are precise and to the point, and if these villagers were predisposed toward helping him, Lyr might have gathered a crucial bit of evidence. Unfortunately for him, they’re not interested in speaking. Not even Callum, who will glumly reply to most questions, answers.

A man sitting to Lyr’s left, sporting a scraggly beard and thinning hair, leans over to the scholar and whispers in his ear. “Best not ask those questions, lad. Some o’ the men here have lost their wives or daughters lately.”

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

He called her Elia.

Aashya kneels down beside the farmer in the dirt of the fields. Maybe she looks something like his lost daughter. Or maybe she doesn't; she wouldn't have to, really, in order for his imagination to take over and lift him out of the painful reality.

Her thoughts fly backward, searching for a memory of her own father. But there's nothing that far back, just a vague, misty grayness in her mind. There might be the trace of a haggard face floating in the fog. A small man... stooped shoulders..... The image is accompanied by an air of despondency.... and indifference. That face never looked at her and smiled.

It's easier to think of the gnome fathers with their children. There was laughter, and scoldings, on the River. Play and work. Gnome children crowded around their fathers at the end of the day to tell stories and to hear them. Gnome fathers sat at the heads of the family supper tables, dished out wisdom and judgements, and basked in the glow of their children's love.

"We’ve just got the hooded ones over the hearth. You know that."

"I-- I know. Papa." Aashya can't bear to intrude on his fantasy by not being Elia. "Let's get you inside now. It's late." She helps the farmer climb to his feet, ready to lead him into the house.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Of course the glum innkeep doesn't answer her. It was clear that they had pushed their lukewarm welcome as far as was wise. She wanted to leave, to warn the others, but her heart begged otherwise. The ghostly afterimage of her impromptu vision still haunts the edges of her mind. What would happen if they left now?

Changing the subject, she tries to focus on what Feyd had told her.

"Well, we won't be staying long and we don't mean to intrude. Did you inherit the inn from Kerrich?"

[Berova]

Dun

Shocked at Aleina's mention of the name, Dun almost missed out on what she initially stated, thinking, [i]What do you mean, we won't be staying long?[i] Nevertheless, he awaits Callum's reaction while keeping an eye out to see if she got the attention of any townsfolk.

[Cadrius]

Aashya

Shadows lay thick throughout the humble farmstead. There is but one latnern that's lit and its light is weak. Yet even if it were high noon outside, Aashya can see all she needs to. To call this home sparse would be an understatement. A small wooden table is shoved in one corner with two simple stools and a plain brown rug sits across the otherwise bare floor. The hearth is against the far wall. Two logs dwell within, unburnt. She has little trouble finding a lantern.

Fresh light spills across the room, but it reveals little more about the farmer and his missing daughter. A few stray pots and some dried herbs hang above the hearth itself while a small black kettle hangs inside of it. A pair of small rooms without doors lay on the far side.

The farmer shambles past her and through one of these doorways. Aashya hears the sound of him lowering his bulk onto a simple bed. He sighs once and calls out to her.

"Don't stay up. We got a lot to do tomorrow."

A few minutes later she's back with Rhotha'ah and Heulwen.

Aleina

"Eh?" Callum raises an eyebrow, while watching Aleina return to her stool between Dun and Lyr. "Did you know my da?"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The scholar frowns in perplexity at Aleina, wondering of whom she is speaking. Being verbally cold shouldered by the crowd has left him rather dispirited, and not inclined to press his own questions further.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Cytaill, a human girl has gone missing in the woods where we planned to camp tonight," Heulwen says, explaining to Cytaill what is happening, "We're going to go look for her, but her father seems to be afraid of something in the woods. I'll need you to keep alert for anything unusual while I follow her trail. I don't want to be caught off guard."

Nodding to Aaysha as she returns with the lantern (only a hooded one, not the bull's eye they had wanted, but it would have to do), Heulwen starts following the girl's trail away from the animal enclosure.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The healer shakes her head slowly, glad that at least this gamble has paid off. Or at least, that it hasn't made the situation any worse.

"Not personally, but he is a friend of a friend - a good man, I am told. If he is here, I would like to meet him."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

As Aashya returns with a lantern in her hand, the Dorn man retrieves the two throwing axes clipped at the small of his back and looks to the woods with a gleam in his eye. "After you, Aashya. I'll watch your backs. He says, waving his hand forward after Heulwen, before falling into step behind the Sarcosan woman and the halfling with her wolf.

[Berova]

Dun

It was subtle enough. Still, Dun was surprised she did not notice, or, perhaps, acted as if she was ignorant. Either way, he'd best let this strange night play out.

Dun keeps to his silence, having little to add and not wishing to push their seemingly tenuous welcome.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Holding the lantern makes her feel like some kind of beacon.

"Here we are! Come and get us! You can't miss!!"

Aashya tries to keep her hand from shaking too much as she holds the light for Heulwen to see by. She knows they are moving toward the woods although she can't see what's coming; the visible world has become a small thirty foot circle, a tiny island in a vast sea of darkness.

"The farmer is back at the house, in bed," she tells Heulwen and Rhotha'ah, whispering because she feels conspicuous enough without making a lot of noise. She remembers the dismal little farmhouse with its spare furnishings. It must have been just the two of them there, the farmer and Elia.

"I hope we can find her," Aashya murmurs as she peers around, looking out for any threat.

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

"A friend, you say? I wish I had friends. Just got the wife," he leans forward and drops his voice to a conspirator's whisper. "And between you and me. I don't think she likes me very much." The glum bartender slings a pair of watery ales down the counter to some waiting patrons.

It seems to Dun that the tension in the room has eased, if only by a bare margin. Most of the men have resumed speaking with low voices in their half-guarded conversations. But every once in a while, one will cast a wary eye toward the two young men, or a different sort of look at Aleina.

"Who's the friend? Da's been dead for, oh, six years now." He pauses, either thinking about his father or trying to add up a sum in his head. Perhaps it's both. Callum frowns. "You wouldn't have been much more than a girl."

Heulwen, Rhotha'ah, Aashya

The night, already dark, grows darker as they pass underneath the first branches of the woods. The lantern casts long shadows of both the companions and the trees and shrubs within the forest. The branches, some of them bare, hang like great skeletal fingers. A slight wind ripples through the trees and the branches bob slightly, as if trying to touch those that walk below.

Heulwen finds the trail easily enough. The girl did not inherit her father's size, that's for certain. She leaves slight footprints here and there. Based on the size of the foot and the impression, Elia must be small or just barely a young woman. She also searches for the missing animal, but of that, she finds nothing.

Rhotha'ah, trails behind them, his body mostly in shadow. The paired axes feel good in his hands. Their weight and sharpness reassure the dorn. If whomever took this girl is mortal, then he can kill it. If not...well, he'd prefer not to think of that.

The woods are just as frightening as Aashya expected them to be. She has a palpable feeling of being surrounded. It's far different from a city; at least, she thinks it is. No memory of being in a place larger than Fairbrook springs to mind, but she does have the general feeling of knowledge when it comes to such things. The people aren't rooted to the ground and the buildings wouldn't look half as imposing, not even at night. When the wind passes through, the trees look like they're coming alive, and to Aashya, they don't seem to want her here. Not at all. It's difficult to keep the arm that holds the latern from shaking.

The move deeper into the woods, Heulwen moving carefully as to not lose the trail in haste. No sounds, apart from the rustle of wind sweeping through the leaves, disturb them. They can no longer hear the faint rushing of the two rivers.

And then the trail stops.

Heulwen frowns and turns around, rechecking the last dozen paces. No deviations. The girl didn't double back and the trail ends a good way from the nearest tree. She didn't start climbing, not unless she can jump a dozen feet into the air. To the halfling, it looks as if Elia simply vanished. And then she notices something about the dirt near where the tracks end. It looks to have been disturbed recently. Kneeling down, Heulwen uses her keen nose to find any scents that might still linger.

She finds two: the rich smell of earth and the sickly sweet odor of death.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Dead and buried," Heulwen states, voicing the obvious conclusion from what she sees.

Standing back up to look at the others, Heulwen notes their confusion and explains herself, "The tracks, they simply end here. They neither go further, nor double back, they simply end as if the girl vanished from the face of the earth. Or rather into the earth, the ground is disturbed, like some one had been digging, but without any sign of that I recognize as a tool or a digger. Besides that, there is the scent of death."

It would seem that their quest, if it could be called that, was in vain, but Heulwen waits for one of the others to voice that opinion.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"Dead." Aashya says the word as if she does not understand its meaning. "You think she's dead? How can she--? I mean, it doesn't make sense! Buried??"

She stares at the place that Heulwen points to, the disturbed earth. It's barely noticable as being different from the rest of the forest floor to her eyes. A little more uneven, that's all. And this is where the girl's tracks suddenly disappear?

"I don't understand. There's nothing here!"

She ends up speaking louder than she intended, and shuts her mouth abruptly when she realizes how her voice carries in the stillness. She whispers after that.

"Are you saying ........... that Elia is buried there?"

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"It would seem that way," Heulwen replies, "Unless you can think of another reason the girls tracks would just suddenly end in an area of disturbed earth?"

Turning her attention back to the tracks, Heulwen begins in the center of the disturbed area of ground and starts moving in an ever widening circle, looking for anything she might have missed.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"But.... how did she die then?" Aashya asks, almost begging Heulwen for a reasonable answer. "Wouldn't we see some sign of a struggle or something?" She watches the halfling begin to circle around the area of disturbed earth.

She can't be dead, just like that! She's only been missing a few hours..... Aashya stoops down to inspect the freshly dug topsoil, reluctantly reaching out to take a clod of dirt up in her hand.

Is this young Elia's grave?

She shudders. Who - or what - would do this thing? The farmer's words come back to her:

"They’ll find me. They know when you’re in there. . . . . I thought it would end with her mother, but it hasn’t. They want more. They need more..."

"Why kill her then bury her body here like this?"

Who are they?

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Face maintaining the mask of calm, inwardly the channeler releases an imaginary breath. Delicately. She must proceed delicately here. Wracking her brain for some excuse to speak with him privately leaves her empty handed. She buys another moment.

"I'm sorry to hear of your loss. Yes, I would have been young then but as I said: I never knew him."

But there were so many things she needed to know. It was entirely possible that Callum had not inherited his father's information. And he might know nothing of Feyd or the words he had spoken. She had to find out. The woodsman had stressed privacy and even if he hadn't, the uncomfortable amount of eyes on her warranted discretion. Her manner slid easily into a disarming, frank, almost embarrassed tone.

"It was Garth -my uncle- who mentioned him, when he heard I was passing this way. He taught me a little about plants, you know. I brought some that he recommended for brewing with the ale, and I had thought to . . ."

Her pause is on the longish side. Give them to Kerrich is what she obviously meant to say, before she continues somewhat more rapidly.

"Well, I brought them as a gift. If you have a minute I could show you how to prepare them."

[Cadrius]

Aleina

"Garth?" His brow furrows. "I knew a Garth once. He didn't like me much. That's probably because I dumped his shipment of ale in the river. Well, it's not my fault. He said he'd be better off drowning his sorrows..."

Callum loses himself in the memory for a moment before focusing again on Aleina. "Plants, eh? Well, I guess I can take a few moments. Not that anyone would notice me gone." He sighs. "Well, come on then."

He beckons Aleina back through the doorway that leads into the kitchen.

"Well? What plants did Garth send with you? I hope it's not poison. People try to poison me too much..."

Heulwen

Her search reveals little. Moving in a slow, outward spiral, Heulwen kept her head down. Studying the dirt and leaves and twigs, the halfling searches for any sign of passing. If someone walked on this ground, they hid it very well. But she does find one thing of note: a small wreath of river flowers. The stems have been carefully interwoven, with the flowers designed to stretch from one temple to the other, but the right side has been torn.

It seems Elia won't be wearing this again.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Picking up the broken chain of flowers, Heulwen shudders involuntarily.

"Who knows," Heulwen replies, "I only know what I read in the tracks, which do a very bad job of explaining why."

Looking around at the forest, Heulwen adds, "Lets get out of here. It is apparent that our intentions are for naught, and I for one, don't wish to encounter the same fate as Elia."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Following the dour innkeeper into the kitchen, Aleina's eyes search for anyone who might overhear them. Her fingers deftly pull her scrip of herbs from her belt, selecting some that won't ruin ale. Satisfied they are alone, she nevertheless keeps her voice low,carefully watching the man's reaction.

"Not poison. Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta. That's what my friend Feyd called them."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya climbs quickly back to her feet. Heulwen won't have to tell her twice that it's a good idea for them to get out of here! She turns back in the direction they've just come from, holding the lantern out like a protective ward. But then a sudden thought occurs to her.

She stops, and a look of pained indecision crosses her face. Should she mention it, or just move on? She's a little surprised that neither Heulwen or Rhotha'ah have thought of it. Finally she decides that somebody has to bring it up and it looks like it will have to be her.

"Shoudn't we..... you know, make it so she won't....." her voice falters here, and she can barely manage to continue in a whisper, "rise as one of the Fell?"

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Do you have a shovel?" Heulwen asks.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"No, but the earth is freshly dug." Aashya truly has no idea how difficult it would be to dig up a body. She can hardly wrap her mind around the concept - digging up a body! - as it is.

She looks at Rhotha'ah. Maybe the Dorn has something they can use - that big wooden shield maybe?

"Or if it isn't that important, we can just go......"

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Aashya

"Sorry, lass," Soradur says. "Didn't think we'd need any of that in here. If you need diggin' though, you let old Soradur take care of it."

The dwarf has heretofore been silent, but that's hardly uncharacteristic of him. It's said that dwarves were born of stone and it seems this one is only slightly more talkative than a slab of granite. He seems wary though, his eyes flitting about, searching for trouble.

Cytaill wanders over to the disturbed earth and sniffs at it. He doesn't like what he smells. The wogren hunches down and backs away from it. On a whim, Heulwen grabs a bit of dirt near where she'd found the tiara of flowers. It possesses the same odors: earth and death. It's less strong here, but it's still present.

Aleina

He clearly recognizes the words, or at least knows what they're associated with. His reaction is far from positive. Callum shakes his head vigorously. "Oh no. No, no. Not that. Not those words. I don't want no part of that. Or Feyd neither. You'll need to talk to my brother about that. Strangers are always saying those words to him. They think I don't know, but I do know. Well, I don't know what they mean, but I know it's trouble. And I don't need any of that."

Aleina asks who the dour bartender's brother is.

"Shallum. Sorry, Shalm. He thinks Shalm sounds more like a man's name than Shallum. I don't go around calling myself Calm do I? Nobody would like that. But they're okay if he does it."

Grumbling, Callum returns to the common room.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"I didn't think we'd need a shovel in here either....." Aashya mutters in reply to the dwarf's remark. She starts to search the area for something to use instead - a stick, or a flat rock - but freezes in place at Cytaill's reaction to the disturbed ground.

Would the wogren act that way in response to a simple dead body? Aashya doesn't know much about animals, but she always thought that some of them, dogs especially, liked to dig up things that smelled dead. She doesn't think that most animals would back away like that.

Maybe it is too late to do anything at all for Elia.

"All right. Let's go then. I don't know what we'll tell the farmer but...... let's just go."

Aashya is strangely uneasy about turning her back on the 'grave'. She backs up a few steps, and then looks toward Heulwen. She hopes that the halfling can find the way back out of the woods.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Yes, let's go," Heulwen replies, "I don't like this place, and neither does Cytaill. If you want to dig up the body, we can do it in the morning."

Uncharacteristically nervous, Heulwen looks around quickly. Clearly Cytaills reaction has set her on edge.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Her calm is nearly shattered with the realization of her blunder. She had assumed that at worst, Callum would have no idea what she was talking about. She was wrong, and spends the next several moments on eggshells. Even after the glum innkeep hastily departs, she cannot decide if her ignorance had been boon or bane.

Callum now knew she was trouble; that certainly did not bode well. Yet she had gained knowledge of the one she sought and that was something. She returns to the common room, careful to avoid eye contact with Shalm. She nods to her companions, then takes a sip of her watery ale, ignoring the blandness. After what seems an appropriate amount of time she lets her eyes scan the commoon room once more, lets them rest just slightly overlong on Shalm, hoping to gauge his reaction.

[Berova]

Dun

Not certain what precisely transpired between Aleina and the barkeep, Dun was sure something did happen. He continued to play it cool, and watched her reaction.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Ignorant of the verbal machinations going on around him on anyhting mroe than an intellectual level, Lyr wonders idly about the name of the inn.

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

Aleina returns to the less-than-raucous commonroom, her mind turning over the ramifications of her words.

Meanwhile, Lyr and Dun quietly sip their watery ales and take in as much conversation as they can. While the men in the tavern may have relaxed some, they still guard their tongues. Yet they don’t cast nearly as many wary gazes toward the two young men. It’s progress, if only by the barest margin.

Heulwen, Aashya, Rhotha'ah

It’s too late. They’ve lingered too long beneath the branches of this dark forest, spent too much time standing still.

And now they’ve been found.

Cytaill hunches down, almost onto his stomach, and emits a deep growl that rumbles forth in warning. Heulwen instantly feels the wogren’s wariness. He can feel them coming. The halfling cries a warning a moment before they’re set upon.

Two figures come out from behind thicket, moving with a low gate. They move quickly, like hale men might, but their humanity is dispelled upon clearing the shadows.

Their skin is blackened and cracked, as if scorched by some unbearable flame. A reddish liquid seeping out from their flesh is picks up the torch light and reflects it. Six feet tall they are, and well muscled, and their eyes burn with an unnatural light.

Soradur shouts something and plants himself between the two men and Aashya. The dwarf hefts his axe and readies himself for the assault to come.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Move!" Heulwen shouts at Cytaill's warning, but even so, its too late.

"Head for the farm house!" she says, emphasizing her previous point with an arrow into one of the ... whatever they are, before moving that way herself.

"Cytaill! Defend!" Heulwen shouts, calling the worgen to her side as protection so that she can use her bow.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

The tall, blackened figures are terrifyingly near all of a sudden, and moving quickly considering their size. Aashya feels lightheaded with fear, dizzy even, although her feet seem as heavy as lead weights as she clumsily tries to follow Heulwen. She holds the lantern up and out, and it swings crazily with her stumbling gait.

Must... keep... Heulwen... in sight! she thinks, panic threatening to engulf her like cold floodwaters.

But even as she tells herself not to lose sight of the halfling, her head turns around seemingly of its own accord to track the monsters that are coming.

WHAT - ARE - THEY???

A half-tall figure partially blocks her wide-eyed view, and her feet stop moving.

"Soradur! Come on! Run!" It's hard to raise her voice above a whisper, but she forces the shout out. She waits for the dwarf to follow before beginning to run again.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

As the two blackened things shamble from the darkness, Rhotha'ah's hand tightens on the shaft of the throwing axe in his hand. Giving a feral growl at the nearest of the two creatures before him, the Dorn takes his aim at the creature before hurling one of the axes at it, the growl rising in pitch to form a low roar in its stead.

OOC: Throwing the axe at the creature. I realise it's not the best of moves right at the moment, given that I'll be incuring a -4 penalty because of the distance between us and them, but hopefully it still hits. *crosses fingers*

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Time is slipping away. The healer can feel that knowledge creeping upon her as surely as the dark creeps upon the land at sunset. Whatever triggered the feeling, her unease will not depart. Pitching her voice low enough that hopefully only her companions can hear her, the healer begins to relate her thoughts.

"I have spoken with Callum, revealed to him the words that our friend spoke. He is not the one, and though he seemed to know the meaning he refuses to be involved. It is his brother, Shalm, that we need to see."

She pauses, assessing their reaction, then continues.

"I don't know what damage I have done. This place was already dangerous for us, with who knows what happening to the women. Now I have made things worse. We must speak to Shalm as quickly as we can without raising suspicion."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"Our fr-? Ohhhh!" Realising the volume of his outburst might attract attention, Lyr snaps his lips shut with a pop.

How could I have forgotten? Lyr is chargrinned by his mental slip.

"Where is this... man, then?"

[Berova]

Dun

Dun's first thoughts were, She couldn't leave well enough alone... but concern for Aleina quickly followed after she mentioned the fate of women in the village. He whispers back to Aleina, "Let's see what we can do..."

If the bartender was not close by, Dun will matter of factly and non-chalantly wave a couple of fingers at him when he was looking their way and leans closer when he approached. Dun speaks to him in a low voice, "Callum, my companion tells me you mentioned you have a brother, Shalm. We don't mean to trouble you and we wouldn't ask if it was not necessary, but would you tell us how we might speak with him?"

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

Knock, draw, loose.

The bowstring sings a deadly note and the arrow finds its mark, sinking into the forearm of a creature. More fluid sprays out from the forearm, scalding the leaves on the forest floor.

Cytaill retreats back to her side, his ears laid flat. The wogren growls again and bares his teeth.

Meanwhile, one of them advances on Soradur and swings one great blackened fist at the dwarf. Its hand smashes into the dwarf’s face, but he doesn’t even grunt.

Rhotha’ah

The axe spins, end over end, through the night, but the distance is too far and the creature easily side steps the weapon. One of them closes with Soradur, the other comes for the dorn. Their step is eerily quick for dead men.

The sickly-sweet odor of burnt flesh fills his nose and it is only by force of will that he keeps from retching. It makes a grab for the dorn with one of its mighty hands, but he manages to fend it off, for now.

Aashya

She screams for the dwarf to flee, and he tries his best. Blocking a second blow with the haft of his axe, Soradur backs away as quickly as he can.

”Time to leave, lass!” He casts a glance over his shoulder to make certain that she hears him. But there’s something in his eyes. What is it? Resignation? And then it slides into place.

He can’t outrun them.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Firing her bow again at the same... creature, Heulwen continues her retreat towards the farm house. A place of refuge that seems an eternity away. It would be so easy to hop on Cytaill's back and tell him to run, but that would leave the others alone.

As she moves, Cytaill keeps close to her side. He friend and protector fulfilling his duty, and also functioning as a final escape for her, should it come to that.

Noting Aashya pause, the dwarf hold his ground, and Rhotha'ah not even move towards the farm house, Heulwen renews her cry, "Come on! Get moving!"

[OOC: Fire another arrow at the same thing and then back up towards the farm house again. Cytaill will stay at her side as per the previous order.]

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

As the halfling orders all of them to run, Rhotha'ah finds himself thinking that he'd be glad to run, to leave these burned creatures here to their forest. But then he realizes that Soradur's shorter stature won't allow him to run as fast, and he doesn't have the luxury of a wogren companion to hasten his retreat. In that split-second realization, the Dornish man makes his mind up.

"We're staying! Not everyone can get away in time!" He yells, before reaching behind his head for the handle of the greatsword, retrieving it from its scabbard, and swinging it in a low arc at the burned creature before him.

OOC: Drawing the greatsword, and then attacking the creature that tried to hold Rhoth's hand. I'm sorry, but he just doesn't swing that way.. *grins*

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

One of the bloody things hits Soradur. Aashya flinches, drawing a hand up to her mouth to hold in a scream. "Time to leave, lass!" the dwarf calls back over his shoulder. He holds his axe up to fend off the creature's next attack.

Time to leave. Aashya starts to turn away, but sudden realization stops her: she may get away, but Soradur won't make it. The dead things will run him down easily.

Well, it's every man for himself, isn't it? Too bad about the dwarf, but she has to get out of here. There are monsters coming! What can she do to help him anyway? Just die there beside him. Just die... horribly. There are monsters!

She starts to turn away again.

NO!!

No. She can't leave him. Aashya spins back around, running for the dwarf and yelling something incomprehensible. "A-A-A-R-R-R-G!!!" Before she reaches the fell creature that is attacking him, she regains some control over herself. At the last second, she leaps and lashes out with her foot at the blackened thing.

OOC: Ah ha! Take that! Unarmed strike: +3, damage: 1d6+2. If possible, Aashya charges the creature. Is that an additional +2 to attack?

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

This time the arrow flies wide, devoured by the thick shadows in the woods. The trees around feel closer than they were before, looming over her head. She moves further back just as Aashya charges ahead, looking to fight the dead. The choice is a questionable one to Heulwen. She sees Rhotha’ah drawing his sword as well. It seems her companions would prefer to die fighting.

The scrape of metal signals the drawing of the dorn’s sword. The hand-and-a-half sword gleams dangerously in the torchlight and Rhotha’ah employs it as best he can. He swings it with an overhand chop and the burned man raises his forearm to block it. Against a normal man, there would’ve been nothing but a bloody stump where muscle and bone had once stood.

But this isn’t a normal man.

The bastard sword bites into its arm, but doesn’t cleave through it. Instead it leaves a straight gash, spraying more of the hot fluid. Some of it hits the dorn, scalding his flesh. His foe strikes back, setting upon Rhotha’ah with a flurry of blows. He wards off most of them, but one sneaks past his guard, hitting him squarely in the gut. Reflexively, the dorn exhales a second before the hit and lets his hide armor and thick muscles absorb most of the blow. Yet the burned man strikes just as hard as Rhotha’ah. These foes are not weak.
To his left, Soradur swings wildly at the other dead man, but it avoids the wicked axe blade.

Aashya runs forward, moving fluidly. Has she done this before? She doesn’t remember it, but it feels natural. Build up the right speed, and then jump at the right moment. But while her body might recall the action, it’s only a distant memory. She misjudges the distance, and her kick only barely impacts the thing’s chest.

But she gets its attention.

“Herrrrrrrrr.” It rasps, barely comprehendible, but its intentions are clear.

Ignoring the dwarf, it comes for Aashya. She ducks under one scorched arm, but the other hand seizes her by the throat, its fingers hot and strong. Surprised, she doesn’t even try to gasp for air. Soradur screams in rage from her right and his axe flashes through the dark, but the undead man wrests the both of them to the side, avoiding the blade. Aashya finds herself being lifted off the ground and lashes out with a series of kicks, but her feet do little but thump ineffectually into dead flesh.

Its eyes seem to glow brighter now and now that she’s no more than a foot away; she can see what lies within.

Lust.

((OOC: Rhotha’ah takes 5 points of punchy damage. Aashya is currently grappling.))

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

Callum sighs, but this isn’t an uncommon thing. One might expect Callum to sigh if he heard the sun had come out or if he came out ahead on a trade; to him, life is an imposition.

“Everyone wants to talk to me brother. Why? He’s not so—uh oh. He’s looking over here.” Callum quickly calls to his brother. “Shalm! This one right here wants to talk to you!”

Shalm fixes his gaze on Dun, and for a moment, the erenlander can see a family resemblance. He looks annoyed, but nods and beckons Dun over. “Fine, fine. I’ve got a moment to spare. What’s yer business?”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"'SHIT!" Heulwen curses, when the walking dead grab onto Aaysha. She should have realized it sooner: whatever had made the girl they'd tracked thus far a target was now making Aaysha one. The two were just too similar.

Swinging into the saddle, Heulwen puts her bow away. With both creatures fighting her shot selection would be poor at best and a waste of arrows at the worst.

[OOC: Attempt a fast mount (mount as free action, DC 20 ride check, failure results in mounting as move-action). Put away bow as a MEA. If fast mount was sucessful, draw halfling lance as second MEA.]

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Dead fingers squeeze her throat, and Aashya chokes on her rising fear. She beats on the arm that holds her up off the ground, frantically but without effect, then tries desperately to pry those fingers loose.

At the same time, a memory comes rushing back to her...

* * *

She's in a dirty, crowded marketplace, gazing down at the ground and her own scuffed, bare feet as they meander along. She's running an errand for someone, something she does all the time. For her it's an excuse to get outside and away from the squalor of the slums.

She looks up at the sound of catcalls and whistles, surprised by a gang of rowdy Sarcosan youths who are blocking her way. They wear gold rings in their ears and carry jeweled cedeku in their belts; and they strut toward her like they own the street, making lewd suggestions. She'd seen this behavior before, and had pitied the poor young women who were caught out alone. But no-one had ever bothered her before.

I'm just a girl! she thinks, shocked to realize what they will do to her.

"Oooh, come on, baby! We've been looking for someone like you. Hey! Don't run away!!"

* * *

Aashya comes back to the present, gasping for breath as the hot flesh of her attacker's fingers burns into the soft skin beneath her jaw. She has a feeling that this dead man has been looking for someone like her, too...

OOC: Aashya tries to break the grapple.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun threw a quick glance at his two companions as he turned and then calmly took the few steps towards Shalm. As he had done so, he looked about the tavern, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "We just need a moment of your time, sir." Dun approached closer to Shalm. "You see, we have a personal message fer ye father, err... you."

Making sure to place a hand to shield his lips from prying eyes, Dun leaned over and whispered in Shalm's ear those words Feyd made them burn into memory what seemed a lifetime ago, "Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta." He straightened up and took a silent, deep breath, prepared for almost any reaction but looked on with hopeful eyes.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Looking uncomfortable as usual, Lyr shuffles after Dun, still trying to piece together the parts of the conversation he missed, and recover from his mnemonic gaffe. It seems remarkable to him the tavern patrons have been so accomodating thus far, given the sheer lack of subtlty on his, and to a lesser extent Dun's, parts.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Rhotha'ah struggles to leash in his rage, keeping it bottled up instead of unstopping it and letting his wrath pour down over the two dead things attacking them. Not willing to put himself into danger without the two healers present, the large man contents himself with simply growling furiously at the dead thing in front of him and attacking it. He grasps the sword's hilt with both hands as he swings the blade upwards in a cleaving arc.

OOC: Attacking (two-handed) the creature: +5 to hit, 1d10+6 to damage.

[Cadrius]

Dun

The phrase given to him by Feyd doesn’t even leave his lips before Shalm is moving. One strong, calloused hand seizes the young man roughly by the collar and yanks him until he’s but a hair’s breadth away.

“Outside. Now.”

He moves his head back, but doesn’t release Dun. Instead he pushes himself to his feet, grabs his ale, and moves toward the door, hauling the erenlander along with him. Several other men move to join him, but Shalm shakes his head.

Heulwen

She vaults into the saddle easily enough given her relative inexperience. Cytaill shifts his weight, accommodating her sudden presence a moment before she touches him. If she had more time, she might’ve pondered how amazing their link is, but the charred fell give her none.

One hand slings the bow across her back while the other draws forth her lance from its place on the saddle. The wogren growls, happy to be joining the battle.

Rhotha’ah

The two large men circle each other, and in the dark, they might even appear similar. Yet one breathes and the other does not. One wields a great sword and the other pummels and tears with fist and nail.

Rhotha’ah parries a savage blow from the corpse and watches in amazement as once again, it only nicks the creature’s arm. The dorn ripostes, but does little more than draw a long cut along the creature’s midsection. More hot fluid sprays out onto the ground.

Aashya

Dark splotches begin to blot out her vision. Her throat burns but if it’s from the cruel strength of the fell or the heat the surges just beneath his skin, she isn’t certain. She can dimly hear Soradur screaming something in dwarven, but she can’t turn her head to see why. Her eyes shift to the right, but the darkness is there. And then she feels the strangest sensation.

Things are growing taller.

The monster eases its grip ever so slightly, allowing just the tiniest bit of air to make its way down her raw throat. She struggles fiercely now, trying to shake its grasp, but to no avail; its grasp is still too strong for her.

Her eyes fall randomly to a nearby branch. It’s getting taller than her. Slowly, but surely, it’s rising above her. Her gaze drifting downward, she suddenly understands what’s become of Elia. She knows why they found nothing save the wreathe of flowers worn in the girl’s hair.

The fell is drawing her into the earth.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"No time!" Heulwen exclaims as she goes to properly attach the lance to the saddle, "Cytaill, quickly! The one holding Aaysha. Charge it!"

Setting the lance as best she can in her own hands, Heulwen tries to settle herself in the saddle and brace for the impact of the lance hitting the Fell.

[OOC: Cytaill charges the fell holding Aaysha and attacks it. Heulwen will attack with the lance, provided she makes the DC 10 ride check that allows her to do so.]

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The barbarian watches the fell slowly draw Aashya into the ground, his eyes flaring with red. He barely notices out of the corner of his eye the halfling and her wogren companion already charging the fell creature, can barely hear the dwarf screeching in his incomprehensible tongue. All he can see is the fell. All he hears is the blood rushing in his ears.

Giving a roar that would give any tundra beast pause, the Dorn releases the cork, allowing the rage within flood out of his soul, into his body, through his veins. The rage drives Rhotha'ah in the direction of Aashyas tormentor and he raises the sword high above his head before bringing it's heavy blade down on the fell's exposed arms as if it were a diseased branch on a tree.

OOC: Using my one rage for the day, and moving to attack (two handed again) the fell creature holding Aashya. Would charge, but am already taking a hit to my AC for raging, and I can nil afford that, so the charge in the post is for flavour. Attack +8, damage 1d10+9.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Fear over her own indiscretion is rapidly forgotten as first Callum and then Shalm focuses an undue amount of attention to the newcomers. Unwilling to let the group split further Aleina rises and follows Dun and Shalm out of the tavern. She keeps her mask of calm, resisting the urge to rush, attempting to project the image that all was as it should be.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The scholar raises his eyebrow and shares a puzzled glance with Dun as Shalm paws him. When the other men move to follow, he purses his lifts and contemplates them, unwittingly using an expression they might find overly prying.

Once again, Lyr follows Aleina and Dun.

[Berova]

Dun

His hopeful eyes turned wide with horror as Shalm grabbed him roughly by the collar. While he thought he prepared himself for almost any reaction, he wasn't quite ready for this. Thoughts of escape instinctively crossed his mind, but Dun thought better of it, there were simply too many of them. Dun was glad Shalm shook off the others when they started to move as well and it was welcomed relief Aleina and Lyr headed behind them as the villager whisked him outside.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya is near to passing out when the fell loosens its grip slightly to allow her some air. The coolness of that breath soothes her raw throat and boosts her will to keep struggling. She tries again to tear the dead-thing's fingers away.

But had it seemed to be trying to keep her alive? Why? What does it want with a living woman under the earth?

OOC: try to break the grapple again; escape artist +7

[Cadrius]

Dun

The door of the One-Eyed Fish bangs open and Dun is dragged outside by the shorter, but broader, Shalm. The air is heavy, suggesting a rainstorm will soon follow. The young man stumbles once but manages to keep his feet as the innkeep’s brother hauls him down the length of the inn and around the corner into the mostly empty stables.

Bails of hay are stacked along the far wall, but most of the stalls are empty save for a few nags and one mare. A spare lantern hangs from a post overhead, casting a dim light across the floor. He leases Dun, leaving his overshirt rumpled. The man looks to have stopped just shy of an explosive rage; his face is red and a thick vein pulses on his forehead.

“Fool. Foolhardy. What were you thinking, boy? Just walk in and say that to me with a dozen lads sitting about drinking their ales?”

Aleina, Lyr

Seeing Shalm take a hold of their companion, they rise to their feet and follow after him. Stepping outside, they hear the sound of stools being shoved back across the wooden floor. Ahead, Dun and Shalm disappear around a corner. Behind, two of the locals, the ones waved off by Shalm, have decided to follow Aleina and Lyr. They’re of similar size and stature, with one tending to be a bit shorter and fatter than the other.

“Where are you going?” The fat one calls. “Callum’s got plenty o’ ale. You let Shalm have his word with your friend. I’ll even buy you a round, lass.” He winks lecherously at Aleina.

[Dirigible]

Lyr bristles, and opens his mouth to upbraid the men; but suddenly he snaps his jaw closed.

Why not? Why make trouble? Dun can tell them what this Shalm said later. There's no need to risk antagonising these men.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," he says weakly, giving the man a forced, polite smile. He puts his hand on the channeler's arm, his flesh suddenly breaking out in goosebumps as he feels a ghostly-faint, tingling discharge of magic between them.

It brings back a lot of suppressed thoughts and feelings.

"Why don't we go and sit back down, Aleina?" he suggests, meeting her eyes and frantically trying to make his thoughts clear.


OOC: Bluff +1, trying to send a secret message DC 15. Let's hope that Aleina's Sense Motive is better than Lyr's Bluff...

[Berova]

Dun

"Calm down." Dun said to himself as he looked into the burly man in front of him. "I done me best under the circumstances. Yer brother gave me companion such a hard time, the way I read things, you were no different and perhaps even worse, leavin' me with no choice. Now, ye tell me the truth, you woulda give me not the time of day if I dinna get your attention. I had to do something and I done it with as much discretion as I was able to muster."

His tone softening, Dun continued, "Yes, I took a chance, but Feyd never mentioned a word to us, and little clue had I, how difficult this was gonna to be. Anyways, we're lookin' fer me father... a merchant, whom I heard came this way. If you've seen 'im, you canna' have missed him. Dura Abben's his name, mine's Dun Abben. But more than that, we came from Kingscross where it was put to the torch. Can ye help us?"

Dun gave Shalm a look, not quite of desperation, nor of defiance, but one in which clearly indicated he was in need of help. With a sympathetic tone and his confidence returning, Dun asked, "What's going on here with ye women folk? We are not without resources or skills, if we can lend a helpful hand, we'd do all we can, cuz... well that's how we, my companions and I, are."

OOC: Diplomacy +5 (with Blood of Kings +2 bonus) to pacify Shalm and convince him to help them and open up, and if applicable, Sense Motive +6

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

At the barest nudge, Cytaill charges, racing forward to assault the charred fell. The wogren eats up the distance with a blazing speed and Heulwen barely has enough time to ready her lance before she’s upon the creature. It has already sunk up to its knees, the earth churning beneath it. Her lance pierces its thigh just below where Cytaill’s jaws find purchase.

Soradur has cast down his axe and is screaming something incoherent in the gravely tongue of the dwarves. His arms wrap around the fell’s waist and he heaves upward with all of his might. Compact muscles flex like rope suddenly drawn taught; he seems to slow the fell, for a moment. He doesn’t see the other fell coming up behind him.

Rhotha’ah screams from his gut, rage flooding from his very soul. He knows not what these fell will do with Aashya, but a part of him fears for her. It’s the same part that fears for what may have already happened to his wife. The mountain of a dorn barrels forward, heedless of his back turned to his foe, Rhotha’ah raises his sword high above his head. While he still draws breath, this thing will not have her.

And it doesn’t.

Blade flashing through the thick air, Rhotha’ah cleaves straight through the skull of the creature, sending a shower of blistering liquid and chunks of rotting brains. Aashya drops to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching her throat. Soradur stoops to help her up, and then the other fell’s hand smashes into the back of his head with a loud crack. The dwarf collapses onto the sarcosan woman without a word.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Barely given a chance to breath, Heulwen wrests her lance from the flesh of the downed fell and turns it on the other, wheeling Cytaill about to face the other threat.

[OOC: Depending on distance and possible obstruction, charge again, or simply have Cytaill move to attack and Heulwen will also attack with the lance (pending the Ride check, of course).]

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

An explosion of hot brains and sticky blood, and Aashya falls to the ground, hard. Her raw throat rasps as she gratefully drags in a lungful of the cool night air. Before she can move, a ton of bricks falls on her -- no, no, it's the granite-hard body of the dwarf. She is tumbled over backwards, and the wind is knocked out of her all over again.

Aashya scrambles to be free of Soradur's weight, and to get herself out of reach of the remaining fell. Got.. to help them.. kill it! she thinks, but dreads being caught again.

OOC: crawl out of reach of the fell, and get to her feet if possible

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Her mind is focused on their plight, certain that Shalm will be able to provide them with the little insight they need to make a decision. A little part of her is angry at they way this whole venture has been mishandled - by all of them, really. Yet the larger part is simply horrified by the almost casual air of a people living in the shadow of some unspeakable atrocity.

Peripherally, she is aware of the men calling after her, of Lyr's request. But those things pale next to the grip of his hand on her arm. The electric tingle of his presence, muted by constant exposure, rushes back with a crackling surge of heady power. Irrationally, she is seized by the urge to send that spinning vortex of energy at the rude slobs trailing after them, to tap the bright power in his soul and make it obey her will.

Aleina meets his questing gaze, her eyes filled with terrible intensity. She wants to laugh and to cry, to rip the seams of time and space and spill the guts of being into this world of chronic oppression. With a wrench, she pulls her arm back, breaking the spell.

Her eyes search out Dun, then look to the men behind them as her mind attempts to sort out the situation. Still reeling from the dizzing feelings within, she comes to no conclusion, instead simply nodding at Lyr and moving to follow him back to the tavern.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Spattered in gore from the cleaving blow he delivered to the fell, the large Dorn snarls at nothing in particular. As Soradur is dropped on top of Aashya, he remembers the other fell, and turns his gaze towards the undead creature. With yet another roar and a step toward the fell, Rhotha'ah swings the blade of the sword at the creature once again, not content to rest until either he or it lays dead on the ground.

OOC: Moving toward the fell and attacking (again 2-handed).

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The scholar retracts his arm as soon as Aleina breaks his grip, jerking his hand away as if from a flame. He recoils from the burning focus in the woman's eyes, taking a half step back and flinching slightly.

He exhales, and fancies that his teeth have the after taste of lightning, and that there is smoke on his breath.

Trying to shuffle demurely past the two men, Lyr smiles ingratiatingly. "Yes, let's go back inside and let them talk. What a good idea." He makes his way back to his stool, glancing back several times in case the men decide to turn obstructive where the channeler is concerned.

[Cadrius]

Dun

Shalm's face burns crimson, likely from both anger and alcohol. The man balls his fist, and Dun worries if he's about to be struck, but Shalm slowly unclenches his hand before slamming it against a nearby post with a curse.

"The Shadow can have that one," he says, spitting at a pile of old hay. "Your da brought a lot of trouble with him the time before last. Roads were getting dangerous, so he signed on with a legate and his men up in Caderin. The legate gave him protection for a cut of his goods." He scowls. "What happened after that doesn't matter.

He reaches up and rubs his broad forehead. "You and your friends can stay the night free. We owe Feyd that much. But come morning, you best move on. Our troubles are our own. Don't give us your's and we won't give you our's."

[Cadrius]

Lyr, Aleina

Seeming pleased with their way with words, the two men turn back to the front door of the One-Eyed Fish. Neither notice the silent crackle of energy from Lyr's contact with Aleina. His hand, and her arm, are unnaturally warm from the touch of magic. It fades slowly, as if they'd stood close to a fire for some time and then stepped away, letting the heat roll off them.

Inside, the tall man is already having Callum pour another tankard for Aleina. The dour bartender complies with a sigh. Lyr, it seems, will not be receiving any free drinks. Considering the quality of the ale, it's probably for the best.

The short man waves them over to a nearby table, his beady eyes watching Aleina's every move. Lyr is ignored.

"So what brings a lass like you here, eh?" He asks, leering. "Looking for a real man?"

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha'ah, Aashya

Cytaill leaps toward the remaining fell, jaws snapping. His sharp teeth find purchase along the thigh of the burned creature, they sink deep, too deep. Hot fluid sprays out of the wound and into the wogren's mouth and face. Cytaill yelps in pain and shakes his head violently. Heulwen manages to stay within the saddle, but it skews her attack, and the lance misses its mark. The fell responds with a viscious backhand that lands heavily on her face. Her head reels from the blow.

Aashya struggles to remove herself from under the comatose dwarf. As she does so, she notices blood trickling down Soradur's scalp and neck. The sarcosan pushes herself to her feet, throat still raw. Her eyes are drawn to the body of the cloven fell. The earth is boiling beneath it again, seemingly eager to reclaim the corpse. But it's the eyes of the creature that draw her own. While its head was shorn in two by Rhotha'ah's mighty blow, both eyes are looking at her, and just before they slip beneath the surface, it draws one charred eyelid down in a cruel mockery of a wink.

Rhotha'ah burns bright with rage. His cup overflows with wrath and he lets it spill upon the burnt fell. Bellowing, he takes the bastard sword and drives it straight into the stomach of the creature with all his strength. There is but a slight resistance before the sword plows through and is driven forward until the hilt meets undead flesh. Hot liquid errupts outward, scalding his hands, but the warmth pales in comparison to his anger. He stands scant inches from his foe. The fell's own eyes burn with an intensity rivaling his own. He sees the blow coming, but is unable to turn away in time and is struck across the face with a heavy fist.

((OOC: Rhotha'ah and Heulwen are both hit for 5 points of smacking damage [after DR, of course]. Rhotha'ah also takes an additional 1 point of painful, burning damage.))

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Shaking her head to clear it of the blow, Heulwen takes a moment to steady herself on Cytaill before striking at the fell again.

[OOC: Same as before, just without the charge.]

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

With the sword embedded deep within the fell's belly, Rhotha'ah's mind briefly considers pulling it out and using it once more. That is, until the fell slammed a meaty fist into his face. Then the only thing that resounded through the Dorn's mind was a simple mantra; "Pay death in kind."

So he did.

OOC: Attacking the fell with a fist, +7 to attack, 1d3+6 to damage (lethal damage, thanks to Improved Unarmed Strike). Here's to hoping I can send Rhotha'ah's fist through the Fell's skull. With the rest of Rhoth attatched to it, of course.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

The thing that had held her in its grip is gone - sliced in two by the Dorn's sword, and swallowed up by the earth. But apparently not quite dead yet. (No wait, it is dead, er.. undead. It winked at her!)

Aashya is at first paralyzed by shock, and uncertain of what she should do. The dwarf is not moving, and there's blood all over the back of his head. She had seen how hard the fell creature had hit him. Is he dying? Already dead?

But she'd seen Heulwen and Rhotha'ah get hit too. She was surprised that the halfling hadn't been knocked from the back of her wogren mount after that last blow. If they don't kill this thing soon, Aashya realizes, Soradur won't be the only one lying senseless on the forest floor.

She gets shakily to her feet, resolve growing within her. She charges at the fell, again leaping into the air and striking out with lightening speed and a flying kick.

OOC: might as well try an unarmed strike with a stunning attack: attack +3, damage 1d6+2; DC = 12 if I added it up right

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The channeler ignores the obvious lechery of the men, instead keeping her face and movements kindly. This town had been sapped by a nameless horror, a plague on their women. In the aftermath there would be a propensity for lawlessness, but that did not mean the people were evil by nature.

"What brought me here is not important next to what I have found. It must be very difficult to be courageous despite what this town has endured. Such spirit is not to be found everywhere. My companions and I are grateful for your hospitality."

<OOC: Diplomacy +9>

[Berova]

Dun

Dun tries to stay calm, listening to Shalm, allowing him go on as he will, to stall for time, to give him time to cool off (and perhaps to wear him down or wear down Shalm's anger). Dun uses measured words designed to placate him, "Well, thanks to you, though I know its not what you want." Dun nods his head in all sincerity. "We'll be on our way in the mornin' alright, soon as we get some supplies me companions be needin' fer the road."

If Shalm is still too explosive emotionally [perhaps another +6 Sense Motive check?], Dun will leave him be. He turns back toward the tavern, "I'd best let me companions know, they've no doubt are worried 'bout me."


But if it is apparent Shalm has calmed down enough, Dun will continue, treading carefully, taking his time, "It was not me doin', bringin' the Shadow here. But what happen after does matter to me, as it would matter to any son... certainly, one such as yerself...?"

"It's not our troubles we're askin' ta give ye, sir. Rather, it's our hand we're offerin' to lend... if only to make amends fer the inconvenience we've caused ye, and, at least on my part... fer... uh, the troubles by me da. But if you'd not take it, then far be it for me to force it upon one not accepting, after all, it'd not be on my concience if any more women folk gone missin' let alone the fate of those already gone..." Dun looks up at the man showing genuine concern in his eyes.

[ooc: Dun's tryin' his darndest to placate Shalm and get him to open up, Diplomacy +5 (with Blood of Kings +2 bonus)]

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The copper tang of magical residue swirls through his veins like ice and fire, a thousand times headier than the weak brew Callum secretes. Lyr staggers into the warmth of the inn room, only half paying attention to the men who fully ignore him.

When the men start crowding and leering around Aleina, jealous and outrage surges inside the meek scholar's chest. How dare they slaver with their eyes so? How dare they make gropes of opportunity like - that! Dazed by the touch of magic, as he was when he confronted the Hound, Lyr takes hold of his courage in both hands and prepares to...

...he can feel the whorling loops of her fingertips still on his skin.

Lyr exhales. No, Aleina is neither naive or helpless. The last thing she needs is him blundering into her verbal tapestry with the warp and weave of his envy.

Instead, he forces himself to sit still on a stool by the bar, keeping an eye both on his companion at her table and the door for Dun's return. Not really expecting any useful information, he addresses Callum. "Have you, perhaps, seen a man named Edrick passing through some weeks past? Perhaps in the company of another man?"

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

Heulwen urges Cytaill forward, and the wogren moves to obey but he staggers, still hurting from the spray of scalding liquid. The Halfling manages to find her mark this time, but the lance does little more than open up a small gash in the creature’s thigh.

Rhotha’ah snaps his head back, his skull feeling almost light after the force of the blow. Moving quickly, he takes one hand off the grip of his sword and draws back his fist to return the favor to the charred corpse. His fist impacts the fell’s head at the same time Aashya’s foot strikes its chest. The weight and force drive it backward, and it slides backward along the length of the blade, blood and rotting bits of innards spewing forth. They steam in the night air while the fell collapses on the ground. It twitches thrice before falling still. Within moments, the earth begins to reclaim it.

Soradur groans and rubs the back of his head, still laying facedown on the earth.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

No sooner is the Fell sinking back into the earth, then Heulwen is once again thinking about flight.

"We must leave now! Before more of these Fell show up."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

As the second Fell sinks back into the earth from where its putrid body seems to have come from, Rhotha'ah's rage begins to subside as he fights for control over himself again. Suppressing the emotions, his muscles feel like lead as his arms hang limply by his sides, his left hand barely hanging onto the hilt of the Dornish bastard sword.

"The little one is right. We should leave and explore better in daylight, preferably when the others are with us." The large man's voice is heavy and languid, already thick with the desire to sleep.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya stands there, breathing hard. She'd barely escaped being taken down into the earth by one of those things... Nobody needs to tell her twice that it's time to go.

And yet...

"I hate giving up on poor Elia," she mutters. She had probably been taken alive. What is happening to her down there? Or is it all over for the girl by now?

The dwarf stirs, moaning. Yes, they have to go now. Almost all of them have injuries that need tending. If more fell come...

"Soradur, are you all right?" Aashya helps the dwarf get to his feet. She looks at the back of his head, past all the blood at the wound itself, trying to determine how bad it is. "Can you make it out of here? We have to go. Now."

[Cadrius]

Lyr, Aleina

“Courage?” Surprise is etched across the short man’s face. “I suppose we are, eh?” He makes no mention of what they’re being brave about. But the compliment has him puffing out his chest and looking slightly bolder. “You like bravery, do you? I’ve got plenty of that. Yes indeed.”

By the bar, Callum stops to ponder Lyr’s question. “Edrick? Edrick? Hmm. Was he the one that cheated me on a deal? I lost a keg o’ me best ale to him. No. That was Eddard.” He furrows his brow, searching his memory. “Oh! Was he one of the ones with the legate?”

[Cadrius]

Dun

The art to diffusing an agitated situation, such as this one, differs from man to man. With some, soft words will do; for others, a more firm hand is necessary. The trick is reading the man before it’s too late. Dun eases off, giving Shalm a moment to collect his thoughts. Perhaps the brief respite will allow the man to approach the situation more rationally. He has a problem and could likely use all the help he can get.

“The Abbens have done plenty enough for us, boy. We don’t want any more.”

Perhaps not. Shalm, it would appear, is still far too volatile to be reasoned with.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"There was a legate?" Lyr asks with a barely passable attempt at casualness. Only after he's said it does it occur to him that people wouldn't speak with easy or irreverence about the priests of darkness. "Yes, that might have been him." Lyr sits quietly for a moment, counting the days he and his friend have travelled since they fought the Hound. "When was the last time you saw him?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Her attempt at deflecting the man's outright lechery seems to have worked, if not as well as she had hoped. From his demeanor, it is fairly obvious that his thoughts are still less pure than she would like. Behind her, she can hear Callum's response. A sudden weakness strikes her limbs, gone almost as quickly as it arrives, accompanied by an electric tingling.

Lyr's follow up question leaves her hanging on the edge of a precipice while she waits for the bartender's answer. In an effort to maintain an indifferent appearance, she fills the yawning gap before her with more words to placate her would be suitor.

"I don't know how you manage. We will be leaving soon, and the thought of running into such dangers is heavy on my mind. Can you offer me any advice, or things to watch for?"

<OOC: Once again, diplomacy at +9.>

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

Aashya’s sleight frame is of the barest help to the weighty dwarf, but he appreciates her help all the same. He rubs at the back of his head with a calloused hand, seeming a bit shaken but otherwise hale. Soradur offers the sarcosan woman a half-smile.

“I’ll be fine, lass. Get moving. I’ll be right behind you.” To emphasize his point, he fetches his axe from the forest floor and falls in behind the others.

With hurried steps, the five of them try to retrace their path. The snap of a twig, an owl’s haunting call: every noise has them looking fearfully over their shoulders. Aashya had seen one of them wink at her even after having its head shorn in half by Rhotha’ah’s mighty blow. And the earth sought to reclaim them, as if they belonged to it. Would they be back? Are there more than two? Those questions are unsettling.

But it seems they’re to be spared this night, for their retreat is tense but without incident and they once again find themselves on the edge between forest and farmland. Elia’s former home lays in the distance, looking dark and forlorn amidst the open fields.

[Cadrius]

Lyr,

Callum considers the question with all the solemnity he can muster. Tapping a thin finger against his long face, the bartender mulls over the question.

“Hmm. Let’s see. That legate was here with the merchant the last time he came. Or was it the time before last? At least two months, I’d say. Why? You looking for him? Me, I don’t like looking for legates. Don’t get on their bad side and you’ll be doin’ all right. One time I spilled some ale on one of his men. Oh, I thought they were going to spit me right here in the inn. The legate didn’t want it though. Guess he’s a nice one.”

Aleina

“Eh? Things to watch for?” It seems the man hadn’t actually expected Aleina to ask for the specifics of his bravery. “Well, there’s all the usual dangers on the road. Brigands and fell mostly. But if you stick to where you’re supposed to, you should be safe enough. If you can’t get a boat downriver, stay out of the woods. It’s longer but safer. No patrols go in there, so if you do, it’s your own hide at risk.”

His companion bobs his head in agreement. “Especially when you’ve got such scrawny men folk to keep you safe.”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Sighing in relief to be out of the woods, Heulwen looks at the others, "Well, its obvious our original plan to camp out in the woods is out of the question. We need to figure out where to spend the night. Aaysha and Rhotha'ah, what of the old man? Do you think that you could impose on him to let us spend the night in his barn?"

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Dragging the bloodied sword behind him, Rhotha'ah's eyes gaze tiredly over the halfling's form. "I do not think I could, but perhaps Aashya could. She seems to have a rapport with him that the rest of us do not. Though, to be honest with you, I'd not even bother with asking. We should rest quickly, and search out the others come dawn. We need to investigate the forest with all of us present, and in daylight."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"I.. I don't want to disturb him again," Aashya says of the poor farmer they left resting in his bed. The last time she'd talked to him, he'd seemed to think she was his lost daughter. "It should be all right for us to stay in the barn. I doubt he'll know that we're even there."

She looks nervously back towards the dark wood, fearful of turning her back on the menace that resides within its depths.

"I hope they stay in there..." she murmurs as the group moves off toward the farmstead.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"No! Uhh, that is, in as much as no one goes seeking for a l-legate." Lyr sighs silently, and resolves to choose his words much more carefully in future.

His ears catch the 'scrawny' remark, and his posture sinks even lower. Bed, or at least the hay- and lice-stuffed sack that will serve for it, seems an ever more attractive prospect.

[Berova]

Dun

The man was intractable and there was nothing Dun could say or do to change any of that, at least not this night. And yet, Dun could not blame him. The merchant's son wore the guilt Shalm hung on his father heavily in his heart even though he knew, Dura was doing what he had to do. No, there was no reasoning with him tonight. Dun did the only thing left for him to do and headed back inside.

Normally cool, Dun couldn't help but look disheveled as he re-entered the tavern. He returned to his two friends at the bar with Callum, hoping to gain some solace. He couldn't help but to notice Lyr's well worn condition and even Aleina had something about her that told him she was less than comfortable while he was away. Nevertheless, Dun turned to the bartender, "Ye brother kindly said he'd put my-self and me friends up fer the night. Also, b'fore we move on in the morn, I'd like to trade fer some provisions we'd be needin' if ye can spare any."

ooc: If necessary, Dun will use diplomacy on Callum to work a trade for provisions either tonight or in the morning before they leave.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

"Thank you for the advice and the drink. That will help us on the road."

Aleina swallows the last of the watery ale, ignoring the taste, and then rises. She seats herself next to Lyr at the bar, careful to avoid any contact with the man. Dun walks in and joins them, hopefully saving her from further unwanted advances. She wonders what else Shalm may have said, but for the moment she remains silent.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Fine then. Let's hole up for the night," Heulwen replies.

Heading for the barn, Heulwen quickly checks the exterior of the structure before heading inside.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

The interior of the barn seems larger now, the lantern creates dark alcoves and sinister shadows throughout. Bombur stirs at their approach, and moves to Aashya, nuzzling her hand. However, the mule keeps a wary eye on Cytaill. Trained or not, the wogren is a predator and some part of Bombur recognizes it.

Rhotha’ah and Soradur, both battered from the confrontation, stagger more than stride, into the open floor of the barn. Tools hang on pegs and rest on tables nearby, rudimentary perhaps, but they likely help the farmer be as self-sufficient as he can be. An unfinished bit of carpentry lies in the corner, but it’s not clear what it could be.

The loft above holds hay and is likely more comfortable. Soradur and Heulwen, however, prefer to remain on the ground floor. Aashya, however, ascends into the loft and fetches some hay for Bombur, spreading it out on the floor below for the mule. Feeling sorry for the few livestock, she feeds them as well, awkwardly giving them too little hay, and then overcorrecting and giving too much. Rhotha’ah, finds a wooden plank and slides it between the handles of the doors, creating a makeshift lock. The four of them spread out their bedrolls and collapse into a deep, dreamless sleep.


Heulwen awakens first, trained by years of life as a slave to wake at the slightest noise. The interior of the barn is lighter, signaling dawn’s arrival, but everything is gray. A small window on the eastern wall shows that the rain clouds have not moved past. Soradur is supposed to be on watch, but the dwarf looks to have fallen asleep, propped up against the far wall. She lies still for a moment, keeping her breathing regular, and listens. Save her companions slumbering, all is quiet. Perhaps it had merely been Rhotha’ah stirring in his sleep. She closes her eyes, allowing herself to being to drift off—wait! It’s there again. Something is moving outside of the barn door, not quite next to it, but nearby. Her eyes dart to the doors, but the brace is right where the dorn left it. Her heart quickens its pace and she strains her ears to listen, but silence abounds once again, leaving the halfling lying prone in the gloomy barn.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Knowing from months of travel that Cytaill's senses tended to be far better than her's, Heulwen glances to him to see if he has noticed the sound as well, before carefully shifting her position to a low crouch while reaching for her sword.

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

Callum bobs his head, his mess of brown hair sliding over the front of his shoulders. “Morning is good. Harder to cheat old Callum in the morning. Or is it evening?” The barkeeper ambles off, muttering to himself, and leaves the question unanswered. Dun pursues him further down the bar and asks several questions in a low voice. Callum opens his mouth to reply, but the door bangs open signaling Shalm’s return. Any hope of speaking to the barkeep vanishes at the appearance of his brother. Callum shakes his head and casts a wary eye toward Shalm, whose face is still scarlet from his confrontation with Dun.

After a bit of awkward silence, the three move through the dwindling common room; other townsmen follow suit. In pairs or trios, they push themselves back from their tables and empty cups, and slowly make their way out the door and into the night.

The stairs are dark, but Dun fetches a nearby lantern and lights it, pushing back some of the shadows lying across their path. Creaking under their feet, the stairs faintly protest under their weight. The banisters are smooth and well-worn from use and the darkness is thicker once they reach the second floor. No light spills out from the cracks of the doors lining the hall. It would seem that Dun, Lyr, and Aleina are the only guests staying tonight.

The beds are perhaps a touch small and none too soft, but they each drift off to sleep, one after the other. Dun is the first; he had tried his best to appease Shalm’s pride and make an offer of help, but he’d been rejected. Yet there was something about the way the man had spoken, something he’d said, that niggled Dun’s mind. Perhaps morning’s light will shed new details. Lyr is next, keeping awake a while longer with replaying the night’s events: Shalm dragging Dun outside, the leers of the townsfolk at Aleina, and the way he had been dismissed as unimportant by everyone present, time and again. Aleina is last, her mind is haunted by the vision that overcame her earlier. As usual, it was unclear. Every action she took created more ripples in the pond and she could not know what those ripples would do. Yet despite the horrific image branded into her memory, the slow, easy breathing of her companions soon has her asleep as well.


Their dreams are dark, but none are recalled when the three awaken to a gray morning. The window affords a view of the rushing Eren that’s partially obstructed by another building. Rain clouds loom, dark and heavy, but it looks like little or no rain has fallen overnight.

Sounds of muffled voices can be heard from downstairs. It would seem the day has already started in Fairbrook.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Rising a little before his companions, Lyr pulls his undershirt around his bony, stooped shoulders as he peers out of the shutters into the dawn.

Not for the first time, he wonders about the blank page of unwritten history spread out before him; wonders if his role is to be that of chronicler while those around him forge ahead, writing the future while he writes the past. Perhaps the simple truth is that Dun and Aleina have something ahead of them: his lost father, her invisible agenda; and Lyr has only something behind him.

The Order of Shadow.

Therefore, they drive forward, while he is merely pulled along in the current. If that is so, then there is no one to blame for his feelings of aimlessness but himself. The young scholars blank expression gives little of his bleak thoughts away as he watches the clouds roll like rain-soaked sows in the sky above the Eren. He muses on what might have become of Rhotha'ah, Aashya and Heulwen over the night. Hopefully, they remained safe in a hidden camp somewhere.

Listening to the sussurus downstairs, he wonders if Callum has custom this early usually.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The thought of sleep is enough to set Aleina's mind tumbling into motion. There was no telling what would await her in slumber - too often it was nightmares and visions of the future. Too often it was impossible to tell them apart. Wakefullness was no better, the eye of her mind still focused on her horrid vision earlier that evening, when she had seen the people of Fairbrook as rotting corpses.

Bitterness washed through her. What good was the power of her sight if she could discern no meaning? Within, her fear and frustration grew. Something terrible was circling but what it was or where it would strike were beyong her ken. It reminded her cruelly of a lesson her father had taught her: punishment delayed was often worse than the punishment itself. Gradually, she slips from bitterness to apathy, and finally into sleep.

When Aleina wakes, it is with a start. Her eyes snap open, full of emotion until she blinks, her lids erasing any trace of the anguish written there. Nearby, Lyr and Dun were preparing for the day. She does the same, as always concentrating on exuding the aura of calm and certainty that had become a part of her.

"Dun, I had been hoping to learn something that would help us in our search. Did Shalm have any information that might be of use?"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The scholars eyes follow the Aleina as she talks, and he nods as he glances at Dun. "It would be nice to have a firm path ahead of us."

As the other make themselves ready, he returns to filling in and perusing his lorebook. His fingers run lovingly over a sketch of an indoor plumbing system, a careful analysis of the number of times each letter of the Erenland alphabet occurs in the average text, and diagrams of the constellations as he reads.

Lyr pauses, and glances out the window. He finds the position of the sun, a paler disc of cloud in the overcast sky, and holds his thumb up to it with one eye closed. He counters the season, the number of days that have elapsed since he arrived at Westbrook, and calculates the angle of the sun with his hand...

The scholar cocks his head, and gives a thoughtful "Hmm,"as he finishes his deductions. With a slightly sad tone, he wraps his book up and tucks it away in the bottom of his satchel.

[Berova]

Dun

He was fortunate he was so tired from the events of the day, he managed to fall into slumber. But even then, rest did not come easy as his father's fate weighed heavily upon him.

"He only said me da was with some legate when he came through here. Signed on with a legate and his men up in Caderin, he said. Try as I might, Shalm just wasn't in a helpin' mood, nor was he open to any help. Tis a strange, but then, I guess who can blame 'em, what they must've, what they must be going through with their women folk. Wish I could give ye more to work on... "

"What's the comotion out there? You both ready for what this day brings, my friends?"

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

There's a prickly bit of straw poking her in the back. Aashya rolls over, shutting her eyes tight against the growing morning light. She is stiff and sore. All that walking these past few days, she thinks with the half of her brain that is just barely awake. Not just walking though. There was something else, wasn't there? My neck hurts...

Following that train of thought brings her suddenly and rudely to full wakefulness.

The burned fell!

She sits straight up, flinging away the thin blanket that covers her. She looks around, making sure of where she is.

The barn is dimly lit with a grey light. She is up in the loft. She remembers climbing up here last night, and falling into the sweet, soft hay, grateful to be alive and not... not...

... the bride of a dead man.

It is time to move on from this place.

Aashya quickly gathers up her things, stuffing her blanket and bedroll into her pack. She can't remember where everyone else fell asleep last night, but she thinks that they remained down on the ground floor. Feeling the chill in the air, she wraps her cloak over her thin, southern-style tunic, and heads for the hole in the floor where the ladder leads down.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Hearing the rustling upstairs of Aashya awakening, Heulwen grimaces at the added noise. Hopefully what ever was outside would interpret it as just the animals moving about, though with it coming from the loft, that was less likely if its hearing was any good.

Signalling to Aashya when she comes into view, Heulwen puts a finger to her lips and the points at the door, before looking back to Cytaill and concentrating once more on what her ears can tell her.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The channeler resists the urge to grimace at Dun's query. She feared she'd never be ready for what fate had in store for her, but such reservations were best kept to herself. Her cool eyed gaze drifts across Lyr almost shamefully before she steels herself and replies.

"There is strength in all of us for what we must do."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Seeing Aleina's discomfort, the Balor of Perversity momentarily seizes Lyr's mind.

"And those who fail? Those who die not matching up to the circumstances? What of them?

He does feel a bit guilty after saying it, though.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Lyr's words take her by surprise, stabbing at the soft places hidden behind the wall of her poise. He was obviously referring to her own inadequacy, of the way she had stolen his essence to power her spell against the hound. It was unfair; she had no idea how such a thing had even happened. She certainly had not wanted it to occur. Aleina was a healer, used to treating injury, not causing it. Lyr should know that.

Despite all that, she can't help but agree with him. His feelings were understandable, and it didn't help that she had avoided him since it happened. It was just so . . . shameful. She had been at a loss about how to even broach the subject, and with all of the other problems they were having, she let this one get pushed aside. Because she didn't know what to say, or how to deal with it.

Or how she might prevent it from happening again.

Force of habit, her face betrays nothing, smoothing into placid frostiness. Now was not the time or place to try and explain. Her words are short, even, but without any hint of rancor.

"You misjudge me."

She walks past Dun, opens the door, and leads the way to the common room.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun stood there baffled by the exchange of his two companions, unsure what was exchanged between the two. He might as well not be there for all he understood what Aleina and Lyr had said. He initially saw what Aleina said as words of encouragement and hope. Lyr stood in stark contrast, of pessimism and doubt. Aleina clearly took his words to heart, self-possessed. Perhaps they misjudged each other, Dun didn't know.

Well, they best get down there to see what the commotion was about. Dun followed in step behind Aleina. He wished he could've given comfort or at least some assurances to her, however it wasn't the time nor the place. Dun did manage to give Lyr a gesture of goodwill on the way out, "Let's go Lyr, and see what this day has in store for us."

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

The common room of the inn bustles with an unusual amount of traffic for such an early morning. Many of the same men from the night before, plus a half-dozen unfamiliar faces, are gathered in a circle around Shalm. Callum is nearby, fetching some steaming bowls of broth from the kitchen. The drone of conversation makes eavesdropping difficult.

“—again? When did—”
“Shalm! Something sh—”
“—maybe we could try—”
“What are we—”
“Into the wo—”
“Loruk, might know—”
“—hogwash! What we need is—”
“He’s in the woods!”
“I’m sure we could—”

Shalm spots Dun, Lyr, and Aleina as they make their way down the stairs and with a sharp gesture, the conversation slows, trickles, and then stops. The score of men turn to regard the strangers as they reach the landing. Callum emerges from the kitchen once more and bobs his head recognizing them.

“Good morning, good morning. Didn’t expect you up so early. Not much reason to get up early here. No sir.”

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

The rustling near the door intensifies, and the light scraping of fingernails, or claws, on wood can be heard. Cytaill’s ears twitch, trying to pick up the different noises. He listens intently, muscles taught and ready to pounce. The tension within the wogren is palatable to Heulwen.

And then the rustling stops.

Within a moment, there’s a definite sense of a presence leaving the vicinity. It seems they are alone once more.

“It’s about time. I was gettin’ tired of snoring,” Soradur rumbles from his position by the wall. He pushes his not inconsiderable bulk to his feet and moves to the brace applied by Rhotha’ah. “Ye want me to have a look?”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Quickly, if you're going to. It sounds like what ever it was has left. At most you might catch a glimpse of its back."

Not waiting for whatever it was to come back, Heulwen quickly gathers up her gear. She'd prefer to be long gone before it comes back, or something (or someone) else comes along.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya had frozen in place on the ladder at Heulwen's signal, hardly daring to breathe. The rustling on the other side of the door could be anything - a foraging animal, the farmer going about his chores, a neighbor checking on things.

Of course, it's possible that there is something much worse lurking out there. Aashya doesn't want to think about what it could be.

Don't open the door! she wants to say when Soradur suggests having a look outside. But instead she climbs the rest of the way down as quietly as she can and prepares herself for action.

"It's probably gone," she whispers, hoping that she's right.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

"We appreciate your hospitality and have no wish to overstay our welcome. We will be on our way very shortly."

The words are spoken with sincerity and calm purpose. She pretends not to notice the impromptu meeting that they had interrupted. Her eyes find Shalm. She speaks to her companions without turning to look at them.

"Dun, Lyr: will you settle with Callum?"

She nods at Shalm and hefts her purse.

"Will you join me outside? I have some items for trade that you might be interested in."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

You misjudge me.

Staring blanky at the sorceress as she leaves the room like a swan on the neap tide, Lyr feels the phrase echo around the hollowness of his soul.

You misjudge me. I will not fail, nor die. I have the strength for what I must face. Yes, that is what her words must have meant. For a moment, he is once again impressed by her will and dignity, but the relentless ship of his mind has not yet reached its keel-shattering desination.

I have the strength I need... and that is why your weakness, your mystic impotence repulses me so. Dirty, powerless man-child, I cannot bring myself to even tap into the meagre energy within you.

Lyr tastes ashes. For a moment, rage at her and loathing of himself wells up too strong to bear. It bursts out of him like a psychic javelin of vomit and fire, intense enough to be solid, were it not for that block, that critical keystone missing from the bridge of his magic. Hateful, cold... woman, he screams in his mind, the asceticism of his upbringing depriving him of sharper words to use against her.

Outwardly, there is little sign of the emotional pyre. His knuckles clench agaisnt his palm, and his normally thoughtful eyes harden and darken against the world.

So be it, then... he grates, forcing his fingers loose. If my presense repels you so, I'll not force it on you. It is over. For the moment, he leaves both the definition of 'it', of which he is unsure, and the consequences of its termination vague.

Basting in bitterness, Lyr stalks down the stairs in front of Dun. He turns his attentions to the mob of villagers, there presense a welcome distraction from his vow not to think about Aleina. Stop it. He eyes then right back, souly, already tired of their secretive nature, even though he understands it a little more now. Or perhaps less, because of... stop it.

He approaches Callum without acknowledging the channeler's words. As he does so, he forces his expression out of its childish, indignant mode and resumes as close to a normal look as he can. Callum was reasonably helpful last evening, and is involved in neither the whispers of the villagers or his feelings towards stop that.

"Master Callum," Lyr says, trying to open expressions. "What is our debt?"

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Aashya

Soradur slides an axe from its haft, the half-moon blade gleaming faintly in the dark gray light. Rhotha’ah stirs from his sleep as the dwarf removes the brace and opens one of the two great oaken doors.

The sound of songbirds declaring their territory floats in and the smell of humidity and the outdoors is a welcome relief to their noses. Until now, Aashya wasn’t aware just how used she had gotten to the smell of hay and livestock.

“Might want to bar the door behind me,” he says, stepping outdoors and sliding the door closed. The birdsong is muffled.

The sound of the dwarf’s heavy steps slowly fades away. Somewhere in the back, the farmer’s lone pig grunts.

A few minutes pass. Rhotha’ah awakens fully, and looks not at all pleased that Soradur is outside without him. The dorn shoves himself to his feet roughly, wincing as he does so, and snatches up his blade. Without a word he shoves the door open and strides out.

A few more minutes pass. Rhotha’ah and Soradur return. Neither the dwarf nor the dorn look particularly happy. Then again, neither Heulwen nor Aashya has seen that emotion on their countenances.

“Didn’t see a thing,” Soradur says.

Rhotha’ah nods. “There are many tracks near the barn. Some may be from those beasts.”

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr

Callum casts a wary eye toward his brother and the other men before jerks his head back to Lyr. “No, sir,” he says, dropping the food on the bar and fetching several loaves of hard bread. “My brother says you stay for free” —he drops his voice down to a mutter— “and he’s always generous, he is.”

The bartender disappears into the back and emerges again with three more well-worn wooden bowls. He slides them, and one of the hard loaves, across the bar to Dun and Lyr. “Best have a fully belly ‘fore you get on the road.”

[Cadrius]

Aleina

“I’ll be outside when I’m good an’ ready, woman,” Shalm says with a snort. Half of the men laugh; the other half don’t. All of them look nervous. “You go on ahead an’ wait.”

One of the other men opens the door, revealing front street of Fairbrook.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

While the two men are outside, Heulwen finishes her packing, and begins saddling Cytaill. Usually the wogren needs some soothing before he accepts the saddle, but he seems to sense Heulwen's haste and nervousness and accepts the saddle without complaint this morning.

Heulwen is just finishing with the last of the straps when the dwarf and the dorn return. Hearing about the tracks, she replies "I'll be the judge of that," before quickly buckling the last strap and heading outside to check the tracks. Hopefully Soradur and Rhotha'ah haven't ruined them.

Her desire to see the tracks, however, is tempered by her inate sense of caution, and she pauses momentarily at the door to make sure no one is looking leaving the shadows of the interior to check on the footprints.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr gives Callum a faint, puzzled smile, and, lowering his voice, speaks to Dun once the innkeeper carries his personal cloud of glumness elsewhere.

"Did Shalm seem a generous man to you?"

Lyr picks at the broth, forcing himself to eat to build up strength for the trials that no doubt lie ahead. I should probably save a crust of bread for... stop that.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

She does not let her disappointment show. Instead, she gives a small smile at Shalm and nods, as if he had happily agreed with her request. When she speaks, her voice is warm, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Of course. When you are free, then."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya follows Heulwen outside. The morning is damp and cool, the air heavy with the threat of rain. As far as her eye can see the countryside round about is quiet and peaceful. Too peaceful for Aashya's liking. She still misses the raucous bustle of mornings on the gnomes' raft.

There are tracks and footprints in the soft earth around the barn, but Aashya can make nothing of them. She is careful not to step anywhere near where Heulwen is inspecting the ground so as not to confuse the signs.

"I wonder how the farmer fared last night," she says idly, stepping away from the barn and looking over toward the farmhouse.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Aashya

Aashya turns her gaze toward the farmstead, her memory tinged with sadness at the farmer’s loss and incoherence. Yet something deeper stirs within her. His confusing Aashya for Elia reopened a wound inside the young woman. She doesn’t know her family. Does she have a father? Does he still live? Will she ever see him? Does he miss her? No smoke trails from the chimney of the small house.

Peering her little head around the bulky oaken doors, Heulwen scans the nearby fields. Corn, much taller than Rhotha’ah, let alone her, marks the east. Nearby, she can see a scarecrow maintaining his silent vigil; he’s a sad bit of wood, frayed cloth, and a dilapidated pumpkin for a head.

Nothing stirs nearby, not that she can see.

The Halfling takes a few cautious steps outside, sniffing the air. Rain is imminent, her nose tells her. It also tells her that none of the charred fell came near here. Their foul corruption would lay heavy in the air for some time, especially with no breeze to disperse it.

Nearby, Cytaill yawns and sniffs the ground for a while before relieving himself on the edge of the barn.

Heulwen turns her eyes to the ground around the barn. First and foremost are her own companion’s footprints. Rhotha’ah has displayed some ability to track, but his great size keeps him from masking his own passing. She easily finds Soradur’s broad feet as well. Scattered here and there, are Aashya’s and her own.

Yet there’s a fresh set near here. It’s a man, undoubtedly, by the size of the booted imprints left on the ground, and it looks as if he peered around the barn for a bit before turning and heading toward the woods.

[Cadrius]

Aleina

Morning fog, heavy with moisture, lightly blankets the street. Aleina steps through the doorframe. The mist feels particularly cool after the heat of the fire in the common room. The heavy door bangs shut behind her, but the sound is largely muffled by the fog.

Nearby, a couple of boys loiter and look quite surprised to see Aleina. They immediately drop their eyes in what seems like deference.

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr

Lyr and Dun eat amidst the pall of silence hanging in the One-Eyed Fish. Shalm and his men stare at each other, as if trying to communicate by thought alone. Eventually, one man gets fed up with the quiet.

“Shalm,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s my wife. I need to go into—”
“You know what’ll happen to you, Freeman,” one man responds, his small jowls shaking as his speaks.
A shorter man, one that Lyr recognizes from the night before, contradicts the other. “Let him go if he wants to go. It’s his skin. We deser—”

The group descends into argument for a few moments more before Shalm roars for silence.

“Now is not the time, gentlemen,” he growls. “Loruk! Take our guests into the private room so that they might eat in peace. Tell them a tale.”

One man, an older fellow by his looks, bobs his head and complies. He presses through the throng, coming out the other side by Dun and Lyr. He gestures to a door toward the back of the room and smiles. Lyr recognizes the man immediately.

He’s the one who was staring at him last night.

[Black Plauge]

"A man," Heulwen comments on what she sees for Aaysha's benefit, "and it looks like he did some snooping around the barn before heading on to the woods.

Backtracing the tracks for a bit, Heulwen tries to get a rough idea for where the man came from.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

She splits her attention between the ground in front of her and the land around her. One moment, Heulwen peers at the myriad of tracks converging around the barn; the next moment, she scans the edge of the forest and the small field of corn. Nothing stirs, beyond her companions. In the distance she can see the Eren’s fog shrouding part of Fairbrook.

Unwilling to stray far from shelter, the Halfling follows the tracks a short distance in each direction. Fifteen paces toward the woods verify that the tracks head toward the forest; fifteen paces toward the farmstead shows that the tracks look to have originated at or near the house.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Not wanting to remain near the barn and other human habitations any longer than she has to, Heulwen finishes he surveying of the tracks quickly before looking to the others.

"Come on, lets get out of here before any one else comes snooping around the barn."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"Where are we going to go?" Aashya asks, folding her arms and looking stubborn. "We told the others we'd meet them in the woods, but I'm not going in there again.

"Unless... unless maybe it's OK to go in during the daytime. Do you think it is? Do these tracks belong to the farmer, maybe? And he went in to look for his daughter?"

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"We'll skirt the edge of the wood," Heulwen replies, "Using the scrub to keep out of sight, but at the same time close enough to leave quickly if those Fell reappear."

Looking back at the tracks, Heulwen continues, "It might be the farmer. The tracks come from the house. If you want you can go check, but I'd prefer to get back out of sight. Most humans are more than willing to sell even their own children to the legates if it will save their own skin."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The door to the inn bangs shut behind her, the heavy sound somehow muffled by the thick morning fog. Aleina feels sick, her stomach filled with leaden worry, her mind edged with fear. It was a thousand little doubts all building, one upon the other: her disturbing vision, an unnamed terror in the woods, the plight of the women, the look of disgust in Lyr's eyes and more.

She watches the two boys for a moment, not sure if their unease is because she is female, a stranger, or both. It didn't really matter. That uncertainty might be used to her advantage. She approaches them, smiling.

"Good morning. This town rises early, it seems. There are certainly a lot of people gathered at the inn this morning."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya looks back toward the farmhouse. She doesn't think this farmer is the type to sell his children to the legates. But is there really any point in going back to check on him? She'd probably just find him in the same condition he'd been in yesterday - that is, mostly done-in by grief.

Unless those really are his tracks that lead into the forest.

But even if they are, does it matter? There isn't anything that can be done about it. Best to just move on from this place.

Aashya follows Heulwen, but the thought of the farmer nags at her. A father looking for - grieving for - his missing daughter...

[Cadrius]

Aleina

“Yes, m’lady,” one lad says, shifting awkwardly on his club foot. “Busy time of year with the harvest and all.”

The boys keep their eyes downcast. Visitors cannot be unheard of here; Fairbrook might be a minor stop, but it still rests upon the banks of the Eren. Trade vessels with ties to the village must stop from time to time and bring a bit of civilization. Well, perhaps not civilization, but at the very least a slight influx of goods.

Yet their genuflection cannot be simply due to her status as stranger. As always, she is keenly aware of her comeliness. A pretty face isn’t common these days, particularly in this town. She still isn’t certain whether or not there are any to be found here at all. But who, or more likely, what would want them?

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr

The two are docile enough to comply with Shalm’s order, unwilling to dispute the him and his gang of townsmen. Loruk beckons and then follow, gathering up their thin soup and hard bread first. The common room is silent but several of the men visibly seethe with anger and more than one casts a black look at Shalm.

Loruk allows them to pass and steps in behind them. The private room hardly differs from the common area. Although, the table and stools don’t look quite as worn, they do look about as aged as those found on the other side.

“Sit, please,” Loruk says, running a hand through his graying hair. He offers the men a soft smile. “I’m Loruk, and our dear friend Shalm wants me to keep you entertained for a spell. I suppose I could tell you a tale if you’re interested,” he shrugs. “But I’m afraid I don’t know too many that would be of interest to” —he raises an eyebrow— “men of the world such as you. Perhaps you have questions? I know much of Fairbrook and the surrounding area.”

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Aashya

Relaying the summation of their conversation to Soradur in the Trade Tongue, they set off. They slip into the fringe of the woods, staying within a few dozen paces of the edge, and keep a sharp eye out for any charred fell. They see none, but neither Heulwen nor Aashya can shake the feeling of being watched. Bombur follows Aashya docilely enough, the mule only occasionally pulling against the reigns in an attempt to stop and graze.

The Halfling’s hackles alternate between standing and lying down. Cytaill shares her unease. She sniffs the air, but her nose does not reveal anything unusual; all the typical smells of the forest mingle with the threat of rain in the air. She pats Cytaill on the head, reassuring the wogren, but the contact serves to calm her own nerves too.

Moving between the outlying trees, they notice that no farmstead lies within a hundred feet of the forest’s edge. Looking upon one such farm, Heulwen notices something unusual. The back edge of the barn, the one that faces the forest, looks to have been partially scorched. Several lifeless forms, birds by the look, lay scattered in the grass behind it.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Pausing to look at the barn, Heulwen stays under the cover of the trees so as not to be seen by any human that might happen to look her way, but at the same time keeps an ear on the forest behind her so that if need be she can bolt at a moment's notice.

"Look at that," Heulwen comments to Aaysha and Rhotha'ah when they've noticed she stopped. "The back of that barn has been scorched."

Scanning the ground between the forest and the barn, Heulwen looks for other signs of a recent fire.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

He almost laughs at 'men of the world'. We've certainly seen a representative portion of its pain and fire and fear.

Perching uneasily on a stool, but nevertheless feeling a bit better without so many hostile, suspicious eyes on him, Lyr picks at his soup unenthusiastically.

"There is one tale I'm very interested in, master Loruk..." he says hesitantly. "The tale about the women and children of this village..."

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

Squinting her eyes, the Halfling scans the farm more closely. She keeps herself hidden more by reflex than design—staying behind the thin trunk of a birch tree—but she’s struck by the thought that she’s safe neither in the forest nor in the fields. The woods at her back are overtly dangerous: containing charred fell that seem to still feel lust. Yet the town in front of her is no more friendly than the woods behind. The humans would likely betray her, and why not? She had been lucky in Kingscross, finding a few decent souls. Most would not dare risk a public flogging by a legate for aiding a former slave like her.

From here, it appears that the black marks run less than halfway up the barn. In her mind’s eye, Heulwen sees a farmer running frantically back and forth with buckets of water. The flames begin to lick higher, but his family scrambles to his aid. Shortly, they gain control over the flames, putting it out with only minimal damage caused. Yet how the dead birds came to rest behind the barn, and why the farmer left them there, is a mystery.

Her vision pans over to the field of corn, golden brown in color. She marks a scarecrow dressed in nice, if well-worn, clothing. Beyond that, nothing remarkable is in the field. None of the crops have been burned. The farmstead looks to be unharmed as well.

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr

“Ah, yes,” Loruk says, shifting again on his clubfoot. Voices from the common room, while muffled, can be heard again. They sound agitated. “I suppose that would be of no small importance. Indeed, the men meet this morning on the very subject. It seems Ben Arlensen’s wife has gone missing this morning. The fifteenth. No, fourteenth. I seem to have lost track. More than a dozen, anyway. It almost makes me glad that my wife is no longer with me.

“Indeed, it must appear quite curious. Why would women go missing? It’s true that our woods are not friendly during the year, and never on Hallowtide, but we have not had trouble so long as we know our place. Not for several years, at least. But that does not change what has happened. Within a week we have lost over a dozen women. Folk are scared, and rightfully so. Nothing in the woods has ever come into Fairbrook, not until now. We thought we were safe.” He smiles. “Safe from them anyway.”

[Cadrius]

Aleina

“Shouldn’t you be helping your parents then?” She asks, appraising the boys.

The one who spoke to her, the larger of the two, has close cropped flaxen hair. His clothes and skin bear the familiar dirt that ones acquires from working in the fields. He’s a farmer, no doubt. His friend is shorter, and slimmer, with hair the color of dun and a hawkish nose.

The second boy shakes his head. “No harvest on Hallowtide, uh, m’lady.”
“Aye,” the first boy agrees. “My da is inside—”
“Mine too,” the second one adds.
“We wanted to see what they’re going to do.”

Aleina purses her lips, considering whether or not to treat them as adults. “You mean about the missing women?”

The second boy makes a face. “Yes.” His friend nods.

“Do you know what happened to them?”

They exchange a look, likely having discussed this very topic to no end. Given Fairbrook’s small size, and the seriousness of this trouble, there's little else to talk about.

“I think it’s the monsters,” the second one says.
The first one laughs. “The woods aren’t haunted. Don’t be daft.”
“Oh? Then why do we always stay in on Hallowtide?”
The first boy crosses his arms over his chest, indignant, but speaks to Aleina instead. “I think it’s the man in the woods. He’s not right.”

“Someone lives in the woods? I heard it wasn’t safe.” She frowns. Superstition or not, there must be something wrong with the woods for it to be universally shunned by the residents of Fairbrook. That someone would brave the dangers is troublesome to her.

“It isn’t,” the second one says, scowling at his friend. “But he does it. Been in there for weeks now.”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"A deliberate fire?" Heulwen comments out loud, not really aware of what she's doing.

Scanning the area again, this time Heulwen looks for signs of movement and people. She wanted to get closer and examine the scorch marks and dead birds, but wasn't about to just run out into the open.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Hallowtide.

There were superstitions aplenty, but for some reason she no longer had it in her to dismiss them as idle fantasy. These past months had taught her the folly of believing in only the tangible. The scant information they share sets her hair on edge: a strange man in the woods and missing women.

She draws herself up, conscious of every slight gesture, every minute change in expression. She projects kindness, beauty and strength, but all with a strong undertone of command. These were farm boys, susceptible to all of these things, and she uses her skill ruthlessly.

"I believe that I can help, but I must know more. How long have the women been disappearing, and what have the men of this town done to rescue them? Have there been any other newcomers to Fairbrook?"

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

She hates these woods, she really does. Each falling pine cone or rustle in the underbrush makes her jump and turn suddenly to see if one of those burned fell is lumbering toward her. She trembles as she recalls the lustful look that the one had given her - and it had nearly dragged her down under the ground with it!

Aashya doesn't fear the open nearly so much, but Heulwen does. Of course a halfling would: she can't risk being seen even by ordinary folk. None of her current companions can afford to be caught walking free in these lands. But it wouldn't be so bad for her to be seen, would it?

It is more her desire to put some distance between herself and the woods than anything else that prompts her to say what she does to Heulwen:

"Do you want me to go take a look? I could see if there's anyone around then come back and let you know."

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

Ignoring the sarcosan for the time being, Heulwen turns back to the house and surrounding fields, scanning again for movement. Only the scarecrow returns her gaze, maintaining its silent vigil. Nothing stirs within its cornstalk kingdom.

The small windows in the house remain dark. It’s still early yet, but even as a former slave Heulwen knows that farmers rise with the sun. Perhaps the closeness to the forest has the farmer afraid to tend his fields today or perhaps he made the short journey into town. Her eyes flick upward briefly. Above, the charcoal clouds continue to threaten rain; the thick smell of moisture is still heavy in the air.

Her eyes flick back. Again, nothing stirs. She’s drawn by the prospect of inspecting the odd fire, but the further she moves from the forest, the more likely she is to be seen. Inside, her curiosity wars with her survival instinct. And all the while, the scarecrow looks on.

[Cadrius]

Aleina

All too often, Aleina’s beauty is as much burden as it is boon. For every man who docilely succumbs to her charms, there are three who would try to take what their lecherous urges demand. Sometimes an icy glare is enough, sometimes it isn’t. So she learned at an early age how to enamor the biggest, dumbest men she could. It was never hard. A lingering glance here, a few smiles there, and they would all too willingly stave off the advances of the others.

It is true that these boys are old enough to begin feeling the first pangs of lust, but what she does here is more than simple aphrodisia. Frigid detachment is second nature to her, but in this moment she radiates warmth. Her every word and phrase is tightly controlled, using the perfect amount of cadence. Drawing herself upward, she briefly appears far taller than her stature normally allows. Through all of this, Aleina harnesses her mighty charisma and mesmerizes the two standing before her.

They are silent for a moment, but quickly fall over themselves in their haste to answer. Their genuflection was sincere before, but now they are completely in awe of her. Both speaking at once, they run over each other’s thoughts, all too eager to please. She lets them do so before gently, but firmly, ordering them to speak one at a time.

“About a week or so, I think,” the second boy says, gazing at Aleina with stars in his eyes.
The first boy nods in agreement, sharing a similar gaze. “The men don’t know where they’ve gone.”
“No one new here since the man in the woods.”
“Woods probably, but it’s too dangerous to go in deep,” the first says.
“Nobody knows how long he’s been in there.”
“Haven’t seen Gran Hardwyck since he went in there after his wife went missing.”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Not trusting the darkened windows of the house, Heulwen can't help but feel that something is wrong with this picture. The farmer should be up and about working. What is she missing?

In the end caution wins out, and she replies to Aaysha, "Go ahead. There's more than the scorch marks on the barn wrong here. Its well enough past dawn that the farmer should be out working on something, but I see no sign of anybody. Go take a look, but be careful."

Watching Aaysha go, Heulwen sniffs the wind and follows her with her eyes and ears. Something was very wrong here and she didn't like it one bit.

"Keep your eyes peeled. Things are too quite around here," Heulwen says over her shoulder to Sarodur.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

What a relief to put her back to the woods! Aashya has to slow her steps, reminding herself to be cautious. She tries to look at things as if through Heulwen's eyes, searching for the smallest relevant detail. She heads straight for the barn, inspecting the scorch marks and the small bodies of the dead birds. She rounds the corner of the building, looking off toward the farmstead itself. She listens for the sounds that would indicate that someone is working nearby.

OOC: looking for a door in the barn, and any sign of life nearby especially in the direction of the farmhouse. Spot = -1, Search = +2, Listen = -1

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

They were cooperative, overly so, and she feels a pang of guilt at using them so. But it was the only way - none of the others would even speak to them, and if she was going to deal with Shalm she needed to know something. One had to do what was right, even if the decision was difficult.

"And what does Hallowtide have to do with this? It seems an unlikely coincidence. Is there any history that might connect these events?"

[Cadrius]

Aashya

She isn’t certain the best way to approach the barn and adjacent farmhouse. On the one hand, it she crouches down low—Is this how it’s done?—then perhaps she won’t be seen. On the other hand, if anyone does see her, then her motives will be obvious. But how normal is it for a young woman to emerge from these woods anyway? They seem dangerous and none too friendly. If the locals are aware of the lascivious fell skulking in the dark shadows, then perhaps she will look doubly suspicious…

Oh, to hell with it. The thought surprises her but she finds herself striding purposefully toward the barn all the same.

With a heavy thatched roof and solid walls, this barn looks like it might’ve been built at the turn of the Last Age. It seems to have weathered time and elements well enough, but the wood itself looks old. She doesn’t know much about barns—I don’t?—but she imagines that support beams in the inside must be getting old, perhaps they will rot soon.

As she draws closer, she begins to see some of the same things that Heulwen did. First and most obvious are the dead chickens strewn haphazardly around the immediate vicinity. Again, she realizes she doesn’t know terribly much about animals—What do I know about?—but she doesn’t suspect a fox or coyote would do something like this. For one, none of them look to have been eaten. Aashya cannot name a single animal that kills for pleasure. These birds have had their heads cut off and their innards gutted, but everything seems to have been left here on the ground.

Forcing her eyes away from the gore, she observes the scorch marks on the barn wall. It didn’t get far, but with the thatch roof, it must have been a blessing. The farmer, and maybe his family, must have caught it early. She peers around the corner and sees that the front of the barn is connected to the side of the farmhouse. If the barn caught, everything probably would have gone with it. However, the farmer wouldn’t have just left the chickens there, wrested from their coop and eviscerated in the dirt. These two events must’ve happened separately.

No sounds come from within the barn that would indicate anyone is working within. Nor does anything stir in the house. In fact, her only company looks to be the scarecrow in the field nearby; he watches her with his pumpkin head. He seems to be doing his job as she doesn’t hear the plaintive squawking of crows in the field.

The sarcosan frowns at the scene. This hardly seems to fit with the behavior of the fell she encountered last night. They were almost single minded in their lust. Would they really bother with something like killing farm animals or setting barns ablaze? Can they even leave the forest? No answers come to mind and Aashya is left to her thoughts standing at the corner of the barn.

[Cadrius]

Aleina

Once more they are all too eager to please. However, Aleina notices that their tone changes when speaking of Hallowtide. They become more cautious and more reverent and lower their voices as well so that she must take a few steps forward in order to hear them clearly.

Hallowtide, she learns, is less a celebration and more a holiday for wary respect and not a little bit of fear. Each year on this day, and in the immediately preceding days, it is said that the borders between this world and the gray realm of the lost merge and that it is possible for things to pass between. It is only through Izrador’s grace—a term she never thought she’d hear—that they are not overrun with the dead. Farmers and merchants work little on this day; instead, they spend time praying for mercy from the dark god in the north. She frowns, wondering how much of this is legate-sponsored zeal and how much is fact. Yet at the least, these boys have a healthy respect for the Shadow. Undoubtedly their fathers share similar beliefs.

But where is the church, she wonders.

“It’s true,” the second boy says without prompting. “I heard my da talking to Master Kerrick about a legate going into those woods years ago. He sent me off to bed though. Dunno what happened after that.”

The first boy’s pale eyes light up. “Oh! Do you think the man in the woods is the legate?”

“I don’t know,” the second one says, dubious. “He doesn’t look like the other ones.”

“Izrador keeps him safe. Maybe that’s why he can live there.”

They return their focus to Aleina, hanging on her next word.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr watches Loruk as he speaks, growing more certain that the man sincerely loves to hear himself talk.

"'Them'? What lives in those woods?"

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr

Loruk fixes his gaze on Lyr, causing discomfort once again. The man’s eyes are sharp, and to Lyr they seem to twinkle with knowledge; knowledge of the dark secrets harbored within the scholar’s breast. “They, are the worst of what plagues our woods. Aye, the Fell trouble all who are not wary, but these are no ordinary dead. These things rise every year with a dread purpose. Oh, they’ll kill any who stray into their domain, surely, but death isn’t their aim. No, good sirs, they do not hunger for mortal flesh like the others do. It’s wives they want.”

He pauses, but it’s unclear whether he is striving for dramatic effect or to simply let the two men digest his words.

“Our woods have always been a bit queer. Folks who weren’t careful were apt to disappear. I think that’s why our Lord Izrador sent one of his servants here several years ago.” His voice grows soft, appearing slightly uncomfortable for the first time. “His intent was to construct a church within the heart of the woods. He would not share his reasons with us smallfolk, and why should he? We are naught but humble farmers and fishermen. It is not for us to know such things.

“He had brought some of his own men to begin construction. They labored for some time, borrowing local vessels and floating materials up some sort of inlet into the woods.” His gaze flicks away to the door and then back again. “But something happened after they had finished. They ceased coming into town. Some of our men went into the woods to make certain he and his were well. They found the church. It was ravaged by flames.”

Again he pauses, this time undoubtedly for effect. “Nothing else was harmed outside of their clearing. The woods did not catch, although perhaps it would have been better for us if they had. I still don’t know what caused the fire,” he says, leaning forward and dropping his voice to a level so soft that Lyr and Dun struggle to catch his words, “but some say that it was Izrador’s vengeance. Some whispered about his lechery. Aye, this legate did love the fairer sex. When in town he could be seen speaking with many a man’s wife or daughter. Some say it was more than just words were exchanged. That did not sit right with the husbands and fathers, but who are we to interfere with one of the clergy? Still, some whisper that our Dark Lord punished him for overindulgence.”

He shrugs, returning his voice to a normal level. “And some say he was just careless with his pipe. Who’s to know? A year after the fire, They rose to prowl within the woods. They would kill any men that they found, but not the women. No, they would take the womenfolk beneath the ground…but to where”—he spreads his hands to either side—“I do not know.”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Nervous, that would probably be the best way to describe Heulwen right now. She wasn't sure the sacrosan woman could find out what she wanted to know, but at the same time, she wasn't sure it was worth the risk to step out into the open. One could never tell what a stray eye might see, or who the mouth it was attached to might talk to.

"What have we gotten ourselves into, Cytaill? What is going on here?"

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

Cytaill’s flinty eyes twinkle with canine intelligence, but if he knows the answer to her question, he doesn’t answer. Nearby, Soradur and Rhotha’ah exchange a look of confusion.

“Shouldn’t have let her go on her own,” the dwarf laments, pointing a finger as thick as a sausage. “Just a girl, she is.”

Rhotha’ah rests one giant hand on the Soradur’s thick shoulder, towering over the dwarf. Heulwen knows that he doesn’t speak the Trader’s tongue, but Soradur’s voice and gesture toward Aashya seems to tell him everything he knows. He turns to regard the halfling. “We must be wary, little one. I like this village little and these woods less. I would sooner…” The dorn’s face grows dark and Heulwen suspects his thoughts stray to his wife, as they seem to always do. “I would sooner fulfill my oath.”

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"She'll stick out far less if she's by herself," Heulwen replies to Soradur, "The rest of us would only draw eyes. A halfling, a dwarf, and a dorn carrying severl axes are far more unusual in human lands than a lone girl."

Switching to a language the dorn can understand, Heulwen responds to him as well, "I'm sure you will get that chance. For the moment, however, I'd sooner know if we've more reason to fear this place than the strange Fell we encountered last night. Besides, until our friends rejoin us, we're not going much of anywhere."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr shifts uncomfortably under those eyes, wishing Dun would speak up. He can't read my secrets. Don't let him read my secrets. I don't want him to read my secrets.

Secrets are all I have.

He listens in revulsion to the man's next words. Fell that abduct people... for a fate worse than sating their necrotic hunger! Ahh, it's nought but a different kind of hunger a mean-spirited corner of his mind sneers.

The scab is torn off long-staunched memories of being torn from his mother's arms; they mingle with all-too vivid and all-too current fears. Aleina. Aashya. Oh, and Heulwen, he adds, recalling that the diminutive fey is also a woman by any standards the undead abominations are likely to count. They needed to be warned. The only thing that comes close to matching his sudden pang of fear for the well-being of the women of their group is the reawakening of intellectual, analytical curiosity.

"Strange behaviour for common Fell," he muses under his breath. He begins to run through his mind what he knows of the Fell and the Legate's Order, trying to fit this information into the vile jigsaw.,


OOC: Knowledge (religion) check to determine if lust or other carnal pleasures are considered 'sinful' for the Order (and, if so and the check is / subsequent checks are high enough) smiting a legate for such carnal lust is characteristic.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

So much and so little. It was like one of her maddening visions, tantalizing yet without substance. She does not allow her frustration to show. They were, after all, only boys.

"These men, what do they look like? And how do they differ from the other?"

Inwardly, she shudders at these townsfolk praying to Izrador. Revulsion and pity mix together, filling her with a sickening dread. Her voice is almost a whisper.

"And where do you pray?"

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

The dread has fallen away; it lies behind her, in the woods. Perhaps she ought to be more cautious, more alert to the possibility that danger lurks even here in the most benign of settings. But instead Aashya is eager to prove her usefulness in this situation. She's even a little bit excited about being the one out scouting for a change.

She counts the dead chickens and makes careful note of what exactly had been done to them so she can make a good report to Heulwen. None of it makes any sense to her though. Where is the farmer and his family? Aren't farms supposed to be busy places that take lots and lots of work? It doesn't seem right that there's no-one around. The only thing even remotely human-seeming in the area is that somewhat creepy pumpkin-headed scarecrow.

Aashya listens one more time for any sound of nearby activity. She's just about ready to return to Heulwen and report what she's found so far. But wouldn't it be a good idea to keep looking for more? Come back with some really useful information?

She goes on around the corner and heads toward the attached farmhouse. Almost unconsiously, she rehearses a little story in her head to explain her presence here in case she runs into the farmer...

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

The dwarf gives a reluctant grunt of agreement. They will not find welcome beneath the thatched roofs of Fairbrook, nor in any other village in Erenland. Even in Kingscross, the best settlement Heulwen had seen since fleeing the slavers, she had been met with uncertainty at best and hostility at worst. Images of Stafford flow into her mind unbidden. He had a kindly face, she decides. Even as the town’s constable, he had little power, but even so he had risked much to deliver those goods to her. She hopes he escaped Kingscross before it was put to the torch.

“Aye,” Rhotha’ah rumbles, “we will wait for them. But for how long? Perhaps something has happened. If it has, I should be the one to try and see. Dun is my brother now. Lyr and Aleina…I do not think they can defend themselves.”

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr

Lyr dredges his memory of his time in the house of Pitas Voreen. The legate had a special fascination for the pursuits of the mind. With an abiding love—sometimes Lyr would say lust—for knowledge, the man was both a scholar and a priest. Pitas’s thirst for new information surpassed even his devotion to Izrador. While his research was conducted in the dark god’s name, Lyr sometimes wonders what master the legate truly served: Shadow or Knowledge?

Pitas treasured acquiring a new book or scroll above all else, but he was always quite fond of lecturing the slave named Lyr a’Corian. Be it while cleaning the dark floors of the tower or boning a fish for stew, Pitas delighted in teaching his knowledge to his servant. Questions were varyingly encouraged or punished, depending on the topic and his mood. One rainy afternoon, Pitas had been in good humor and indulged Lyr’s questions about the Order. “Oh, it is a complex subject, to be certain. The Order exists as a singular entity in name only. In practice, there are dozens of sects to be found. The Sisterhood of the Tender Mercies, the Eyes of Izrador, the Brotherhood of the Black Blood, the Harrowers, the Cabalists, and the Devout are but a few. Some differ on ideology, others on function. And each vies for stature within the Order.” He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. “Make no mistake, it is a deadly game they play. They plot and scheme to have their rivals removed while working their way up the ladder and into Theros Obsidia. But once there it doesn’t end, for they now have to guard against both their colleagues and those below them who seek to upjump. If only I had loved swords as much as I do books. The soldier legates need never worry about such things.” Lyr had asked why the Order was allowed to continue such practices. “It isn’t a sin to remove those who cannot defend themselves.” He smiled then, but the mirth did not touch his eyes. “So long as they serve Izrador’s aim, they are allowed to proceed. It is only when they cease to do so that they fall out of favor. Our dark lord cares not if one of his men loves the taste of wine. It is only when his duties are cast aside for a goblet that he is punished. The same is true for those that with a love for food, or the touch of women or men.”

Could he have cast aside his faith for the wives and daughters of Fairbrook? His mind turns over the possibility and finds it unlikely. Izrador may delight in punishment, but burning a legate alive in a temple he had just built strikes Lyr as an odd choice for an end.

“Unusual to be true. Our lichgate and yard are hardly used anymore. Most folk think it safer to weigh down the bodies with stones and cast them into the Eren. But even those that rise before we can find them have never acted so. Those in the woods are something else.”

[Cadrius]

Aashya

“I seem to have lost my way,” she rehearses in her mind, wondering if this farmer would believe her.

The attachment is small, made of the same wood walls and sod-and-straw roof as the barn and house. Coming to the farmstead, she pauses by a small window and peeks inside. Though dim, the interior is split into a couple of simple rooms, much like the other house she had seen last night. Nothing stirs within.

[Cadrius]

Aleina

“We pray—” the boy’s voice is cut off by the door of the One-Eyed Fish as it slams open, revealing a half dozen of the men from inside. They pause only to give Aleina the barest of looks before setting off down the street, toward the outlying farms and, eventually, the forest. A moment later, Shalm emerges.

“You stay out of the woods, ” he calls to the men. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.” Shalm frowns at the two boys, who suddenly find their threadbare shoes fascinating, before regarding Aleina coolly. “What did you want, girl?”

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The scholar chews on his lips, digesting the information as more and more of it rises up. It doesn't sound to me like this was the work of the Shadow... as like as not angry villagers seeking the legate's demise.

Lyr slurps up the last of his soup and stands quickly. "Thank you, master Loruk. Your words were most helpful. With that in mind, I'd best get back to my friend, however..."

Nodding for Dun to follow, Lyr quickly leaves the back room, looking for Aleina.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"We'll pluck that chicken when we come to it," Heulwen responds, "Its only just morning. If we haven't heard from them by midday, then I'll start to worry. For the moment, we wait for Aaysha to see what she can see."

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

There is nothing more here. Aashya heads back to tell Heulwen what she's found: dead chickens and a scorched wall. She describes everything as thoroughly as she can.

"I don't think the farmer is anywhere around the place," she adds. "I didn't see or hear anyone." She looks anxiously towards the woods. "Maybe we could wait for Aleina and the others up by the barn..."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The slight erenlander meets Shalm's gaze, her eyes cool, calm, and unwavering.

"What I would like," she says evenly, "is for you to explain exactly what is going on here."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"No," Heulwen replies, "Just because the farmer isn't there now doesn't mean he won't return. We'll stick to the edge of the woods and wait for the others to show."

Looking around, Heulwen tries to guage how far they are from where the others said they'd leave the village and rejoin them. She also looks for a spot that would be suitable for waiting.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

"I knew you'd say that..." the girl mutters as Heulwen turns her attention to finding a good place to wait. Aashya notices Soradur's quizzical expression, and explains again what she found up by the barn, this time in Trader's Tongue.

[Berova]

Dun

The woods, the Fell, a legate, lust... thoughts swirled in Dun's head. The merchant's son was reeling. He listened, but did not react overtly as if trapped in his own world... to just what? The horror, the abomination that was taking place in the woods was all but impossible to comprehend. It was Lyr's mere mention of another, of Aleina, that snapped Dun out of his trancendental state, "There was Aleina out there...and Heulwen, Aashya, Sorador, and his brother, Rhotha'ah to think about too!"

Dun returned his friend's nod and gave Loruk at least the same in some form of thanks before he followed Lyr out of the backroom.

[Cadrius]

Dun, Lyr

Dun and Lyr bid their farewells to the man known as Loruk and hastily make their way through the common room. Half of the men that were here before have left. Those remaining willingly part to allow passage to the door.

Outside they find Shalm and Aleina standing five paces apart, staring at each other.

“They’ll take you too, if they get a chance. Best move on, girl. Best move on.”

[Cadrius]

Aashya, Heulwen

Heulwen estimates that the meeting point cannot be too far off. From her vantage point, it wouldn’t be too hard to see any approaching the woods. Withdrawing into the forest would provide some more cover without compromising too much of her view.

The four of them move back several paces, using the trees as cover—birches for Heulwen and Aashya, oaks for Rhotha’ah and Soradur. The woods are quiet. Few birds or rodents move in the branches. The low clouds and distant fog hovering over the Eren eats up sound.

After a time though, the halfling’s keen eyes pick up movement through the fields to the east. She creeps closer to the forest’s edge, as quiet as snowfall. It looks like a band of men, perhaps a half-dozen, who have arrived at the farmstead. They stop to speak among themselves but Heulwen cannot hear anything but a low murmur. After a few moments they move around to the barn and disappear inside.

Shortly thereafter, they reemerge and spread out, searching the immediate area. One of them shouts, bringing the others running to his side. It becomes very clear to Heulwen what they’ve found: Aashya’s tracks.

[Cadrius]

Aleina

The two lock gazes, each trying to subdue the other through force of will. The two boys find it convenient to slip around the side of the inn and out of the fierce sight of Shalm Kerrich. His eyes are as dark as Aleina’s are light but they hold no less intensity. This is a proud man, but—hubris or no—he is the first to look away.

“We have problems, any fool can see that,” he says, looking less determined and more weary. “The dead stalk the woods. They take any who stray there. We know this. We stay out. Problem is people been disappearing from their own fields this year. From their own barns. From their damned homes. If we get through tonight, things should be all right. But…but we’re missing some folk. Wives and daughters mostly. Those still able to birth. Our Dark Lord seems to have forsaken us.”

He looks at her, suspicion and concern warring in his eyes. “They’ll take you too, if they get a chance. Best move on, girl. Best move on.”

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr bursts out of the door, and feels a wellspring of relief burble in his breast as he sees the herbalist looking her unkidnapped, stubborn self.

"Aleina, we've just discovered..."

He stops, catching the tail end of Shalm's conversation, seeing the way she stands, the look painted on her porcelain mask face. His eyes flash insightfully.

"You already know."

[Berova]

Dun

Dun stopped short as Lyr stopped suddenly on their way out. He recognized the voices in conversation all too well of course. And when he saw the two standing there as if in a stand-off, Dun instantly surmised what was going on. They were much too alike, those two. It was a test of wills, and neither one giving an inch.

Lyr blurted out what was already too obvious. Dun simply stood there, slightly behind Lyr, waiting to see what the two was going to say next even though a sense of urgency was building from within.

[Black Plauge]

Heulewen

Cursing under her breath in every language she knows, Heulwen heads back to the others, and quietly tells them to stay out of sight, repeating herself in Trader's Tongue for the benefit of the dwarf, and to move quietly away from the farmstead.

As for herself, she carefully begins to erase the signs of their presense and the the movement of the others away from the spot where Aaysha headed into and out of the woods. Hopefully the men would lose intrest when the tracks seemed to disappear into the woods. If they were as aware of the strange Fell as the farmer had been, that fear would prove useful.

As she works, Heulwen takes care to keep herself hidden and a eye, ear, and nostril directed towards the homestead so that she can hide herself before the men get too close.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Waiting, waiting... Aashya is jumpy, hemmed in by the trees. She tries not to think about last night's encounter with the strange fell, but with nothing else to do, it just keeps playing over and over again in her mind.

Heulwen motions (unnecessarily) for quiet, then begins to creep closer to the edge of the woods. Aashya watches her, impressed by the halfling's ability to move without making a sound and to blend in with her surroundings. Even knowing exactly where the small woman is, Aashya finds it difficult to spot her.

There is a distant shout which seems to come from the direction of the farmstead. Aashya tenses, then sees Heulwen coming back in a hurry, although she still manages to move quietly. When she reaches the party, she urges them to move deeper into the woods.

Aashya's gaze lingers on the spot where Heulwen had been watching the clearing. Who was it who shouted? What had Heulwen seen? But the halfling is clearly anxious for them to get themselves away. No time for questions, or answers.

Aashya turns away and starts moving, but she looks back over her shoulder every few steps. She wants to see what is happening.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Even though she was expecting it, Shalm's admission stirs the ragged emotions within her. Since they'd gotten here, everyone had the same coucsel: leave. They were right - this wasn't any of her business. Yet she cannot help asking the question.

"And what of those already taken? Will nobody help them?"

[Cadrius]

Lyr, Aleina , Dun

In the corner of her vision, Aleina can see the two boys creeping back to the corner of the inn, afraid of Shalm’s wrath but curious to see the confrontation play out.

Shalm licks his lips, looking uncertain to Aleina for the first time since meeting him. “They…” he struggles for the words, lowering his voice until the three erenlanders can only just hear. “They are already gone.”

[Cadrius]

Aashya, Heulwen

Heulwen and Aashya move through the fallen leaves with ease, only making a slight rustling in their passing. Rhotha’ah and Soradur, on the other hand, despite their attempt at stealth are quite loud. Small wonder, Aashya thinks, guessing that each must weigh close to 20 stone. However, both manage to keep their cursing in check despite the deafening pop of twigs beneath their broad feet.

Now in the thicker part of the wood, they wait, hearts hammering in their breasts. Heulwen spies Rhotha’ah’s hand slide up to the hilt of the sword slung across his back; Aashya sees the dwarf rest a thick hand on the haft of his axe. Both look grim.

They all hear the sound of the half-dozen men approaching the woods. The men speak in low voices, but their collective tone is full of wariness and anger. Something has stirred a rage within them, but they stop at the forest’s edge. A disagreement takes place between them, one growing agitated but not willing to shout. After a few moments, they retreat, leaving the dorn, the sarcosan, the dwarf, and the halfling alone once more.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Signalling the others to stay put, Heulwen quietly creeps out towards the edge of the wood, after the sounds of the retreating men, to confirm that they are indeed leaving. Moving slowly, she uses eyes, ears, and nose to make sure that they are gone before heading back to the others.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

Aashya sighs as Heulwen sneaks off again. "Stay put." Yes of course. Would she always have to hide from the world? What would it be like to rest and be at ease somewhere? Maybe there is no such thing in this life.

It seems like ages since she was able to relax. Since leaving the gnomes and the river, she has had to be ever alert and watchful. She can't risk being seen - folk are not allowed to travel freely. She must always be cautious, always on edge. Is this what it's going to be like from now on? Hiding in the woods, hiding in empty barns? Where will I end up?

In Greenfield, hopefully. Wherever that is. Whyever it's important.

She looks over at Soradur as he leans against a tree. He seems almost about to fall asleep standing up, but then Aashya looks closer and notices the watchful gleam in his eye. He sees Aashya looking at him and nods in her direction. She sighs again, sharing her impatience with him, her thin shoulders lifting in a shrug that seems to say: "Well, here we are again."

She turns back toward the clearing, watchful and alert again; waiting for Heulwen to return.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun looks down on the ground before his feet, he can understand Shalm's bitterness and recalcitrance. But then, he looks up at Shalm, almost in defiance, if not of him, then of what he's been afraid of, even if rightly so. The merchant's son thought, perhaps too coldly, "If they are not, then they surely will be." He knows Shalm was not responsible for their disappearance, but he wondered if he was at least partly responsible for the continuing menace that stalked them, that sapped them of their livelihood.

Dun eventually mustered the fortitude to ask, "But there must be something... Is there nothing we can do for them, Shalm?"

[Cadrius]

Heulwen, Aashya

Aashya does not belong in the woods. Her people do not care for such places, preferring the vastness of the open plains or the throng of cities. She knows this much like she knows other facts; it’s the details of her own life that elude her. The press of trees with their canopy crown make her feel more uneasy than the press of buildings did in Sharuun.

She blinks. Sharuun? The name is familiar, of course, but for an instant she has a flash of memory. She’s walking the twisting streets of the Far Lands Market, a warren of rotting buildings. There are men in her company, and it is a bit of a relief to her. The beggars and thieves who make this their home would be all too happy to prey on a lone woman. Perhaps the sheol who live here would as well. She and her companions are on their way to the north—to the craftsman’s quarter.

The memory ends, but Aashya clings to the knowledge, cradling it like a mother with her babe. She has been to Sharuun.

Heulwen returns thereafter, certain now that the men have returned to the farm.

[Cadrius]

Lyr, Aleina , Dun

“Do?” he asks, offering them a sardonic laugh while gazing down at his fleshy hands. “I’m no lord. You aren’t beholden to me or mine. I…” he looks at them again, a look of humor passing over his thick face. Perhaps he’s realizing for the first time who it is that is offering aid—a beautiful young woman and two slim men. How they will rescue these women and combat Them is well beyond Shalm’s comprehension.

He barks another laugh, this time a genuine one. “You want to help? Follow those lads. They were headed over to the farm to look for tracks. Might be you could help them with that. But if you end up dead, it won’t be no concern of mine. Not ‘till you come back.”

[Cadrius]

Aswad

Today begins for him like countless ones before. He awakens after dawn to the crushing emptiness of broken oaths. After a moment to wipe the sleep from his eyes, he breaks his fast on the hard bread he took off the dead man a week earlier. He chases it with a pull of water from the skin he also took off the man.

In the distance the Eren runs swift and strong. Even after wandering the Westlands as long as he has, it’s still difficult to recognize the river as the same one he used to swim in as a child. South of the Ardune, the Eren is slow and shallow and often a mile or more across. His father often boasted of swimming it at its widest point while half-drunk on mead. Aswad isn’t certain if Osrick accomplished the feat or not, but it didn’t matter, the others had believed him.

He puts the skin away, his eyes falling upon some of the other things he’d stripped off the dead man. If he still had respect, perhaps he’d feel guilty for robbing a corpse, but then again, he had done the man a favor.

Asward had made his way south from Greenfield after they had burned a woman accused of witchcraft and conspiring with insurgents. It had turned his stomach to listen to her screams and watch her once beautiful skin crack and burn, but she deserved someone to bear witness to her end besides the bloodthirsty crowd. It was the least he could do for her. He could not even stop the legate from taking the man she named before they fed her to the flames.

Several days later, the smoking remains of a village had sent his hackles up. However, his curiosity had the best of him and he strayed in closer once he made certain no orcs or fell were in sight. It was there, on a hill sloping into the village that he found the dying man. He was dorn, Aswad thought marking him as a northman with his red hair and fierce blue eyes. The man was delirious from pain and there was no doubt in Aswad’s mind that it had been orcish work. An ugly jagged wound ran across his belly—like as not it was the backside of a vardatch that did it. His right arm was broken, and his left had been cut off at the forearm. However, the queer thing is that his arm had been cauterized. Perhaps a particularly clever orc had wanted to play with him a bit longer. Or perhaps a legate required some information.

To his credit though, the man had put up a fight. A smooth oaken bow, once strong, lay broken nearby. Aswad later found the dead bodies of four orcs nearby. Their corpses were feathered with the same arrows as those in the man’s quiver. The orcs must have required haste as they chose to behead their fallen rather than eat them as is their custom. Amidst fever, the man had begged for mercy. Aswad granted it to him with the man’s own dagger. Preventing the man from rising again had been a grisly affair, but he had earned a peaceful death. Aswad didn’t know if the man had any faith, but if he took the hashu, perhaps the god riders of the Sorchef would not find him lacking.

He finished taking from the man what the orcs had not and left the ruined town to its ghosts and memories.

[Cadrius]

Aswad

Finding no villages between those ruins and this new place, he has made excellent time each day. Exhausting himself with a long march helps him slip into a deep sleep each night. He does not like to dream. Memories of his father, of his friends, and her always return to haunt him there.

He finds himself at a new village again. Hunching over and affecting the walk of a man perhaps suffering from gout, he makes his way into this new place by the Eren. The town looks like many of the smaller ones that dot the river. A small wharf sits by the water, but it does not look capable of handling many boats. They likely subsist on their farms and what the river can provide with only the occasional trade vessel stopping. The thought of ships brings back memories of gnomes and their boating songs. A rare smile curls his lips. He had forgotten himself among the riverfolk for a time.

Aswad banishes the memory. A happy beggar is not a convincing one. Turning a corner, he sights a tailor opening his door.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"They've given up," Heulwen reports as she returns. "Come on, let's make ourselves scarce before they change their minds and decide the tracks into the woods were their best lead."

Leading the way, Heulwen snakes her way through the woods to the prearranged meeting point. Upon seeing that the others are not yet there, she settles down to wait.

Let's just hope they don't take too long. The sooner we aquire supplies and get away from strangers who might turn on us at the first whiff of a legate's stink, the sooner I'll be able to relax.

[-J-]

Aswad

"Good man," he says in thickly accented Trade Tongue, "want trade?" Leaning heavily on his staff he hobbles over toward the tailor, in his left hand he offers a couple of sewing needles. "Good man, good man...trade for this, good man?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Shalm's harsh laughter and mocking words skirl through her soul like the chill wind of the North. He was empty and bitter, though not nearly as much so as Lucien. How long would it be before he became as apathetic as the healer who had refused their aid?

"And if someone were saved? I wonder if you would feel any differently."

She turns to Dun and Lyr.

"I believe we are finished here. Is there anything you wish to do before we set out?"

[Berova]

Dun

Dun gave Aleina a nod, "Umm... yes, we'd need to pick up some provisions before we get going."

"I'd not like to impose any more than we have already, but we really need to replenish our supplies so we can move on. Do you think Callum would help us in that regard for the rest of our tobacco, Shalm?"

ooc: I don't recall if we've already negotiated with Callum to trade Aashya's tobacco for the stay for the night and supplies or not. If not, do we want to role-play this out or just 'roll' for it. Profession-Merch +5

[Cadrius]

Lyr, Aleina , Dun

“Go, stay. It don’t make no difference to me so long as you don’t make things worse. If you do…” he shrugs, letting the three fill in the rest.

Dun

Dun recalls that Shalm waved the price for their stay at the inn last night in exchange for their swift departure the next morning. He steps back through the oaken door, receiving a few curious looks from the remaining men. Callum, having mourned the loss of the last tobacco he had several months earlier, is highly interested in the prospect of receiving some more. Shalm strolls in behind Dun.

“Oh! I haven’t had a decent pipe since those orcs took my last one. They didn’t even want to smoke it. Just spent an hour throwing it at me.” He sighs. “You and yours will be wanting food for your journey? You need aught else?”

Lyr, Aleina

A few moments after Shalm’s balk passes through the doorframe of the One-Eyed Fish, the two boys reappear around the corner. A look at Lyr has them full of caution and they edge around him. The young scholar isn’t certain anyone has ever given him a berth like that before.

“M’lady,” the short boy says, “are you going into the woods?”

[Cadrius]

Aswad

The tailor recoils, moving back inside, with a white-knuckled hand on the door. Fear lurks within his pale eyes and they whip back and forth, but whether he’s looking for more like the Sarcosan or for his own kin, Aswad cannot be certain. While the old wooden sign depicting a needle and a spool of thread denotes him as a tailor, his garb is probably only faintly better than the rest of these folk.

The Sarcosan keeps his shoulders stooped, trying to remain as unthreatening as possible. After a moment, the tailor’s mouth twitches in thought.

“You. Where are you from? Don’t have the red fever do you?”

[Berova]

Dun

"Aye, food... and some winter clothes. We have need fer enough for the three of us, an' three others...if ye can spare any."

[-J-]

Aswad

"No, no, good man...Just farmer with no farm no more," he holds the hand full of needles up "trade for small food?"

Qutaybah was always better at this...he thinks, as he quietly curses his ineptness. Compared to him he would always be an amateur. But he isn't here, now is he. There is only you and you still have work to do.

Without making eye contact Aswad studies the man and what he can see of his home, Qutaybah's words filling his mind - Look for the three signs of an agent of Shadow; health, wealth and power. The man's fear of plague bespoke of health unsupported by the Dark God's magics, his shoddy clothes denoted a certain lack of wealth, and his timidity in face of a beggar exemplified his lack of power. On the surface he appeared to be nothing more than a poor tailor, but...

You really are bad at this aren't you? he sighs under his self-beratement.

Qutaybah would know.

[Kelemyn]

Aashya

At least she is getting better at walking through the woods. Aashya remembers her first foray into the forest after leaving the river and the rafts of the gnomes behind. She had tripped over countless tree roots, twisted her ankle when a loose rock slipped out from under her lightly booted foot, and ended up covered in welts from lashing branches and brambles. When she'd finally found her way out again, she'd vowed to stick to open country (and the road, if possible) from now on.

Heulwen announces that they've reached the meeting place. Aashya wonders how the halfling can tell this spot from any other spot in the woods, but she trusts the other woman completely.

With nothing to do (again) the image of the burned fell as it tried to pull her down into the earth keeps popping into her mind (again!). But this time she forestalls the overly vivid recollection with a bit of physical exercise.

She finds a relatively clear space within sight of Heulwen and the others, and begins her morning routine. Of course, it's only recently become routine for her again, but the familiarity and rhythm of the graceful movements seems to clear her mind. She feels calm, serene, sound.