Farron's Fears; Garyth Catches Up
Subject: Reunion, continued.
Farron looks up at the arrival of his friends and smiles. At least he hopes his face presents a smile. He is glad for the reunion, but he cannot seem to shake a feeling of gloom and dread that has plagued him since the . . . well, since he almost died. No, the gloom and dread have been there as constant companions almost since that first meeting back in overlook, though he didn't really recognize it, probably, until the events in the tower, when he first felt the dark thing in the mountain stirring up the dark desires in his brain. That, itself, should be terror enough, but at least that was a terror Farron could relate to. There was reason to fear and dread the evil in the center of the island, and it was a rational, very real reason. If the demon is allowed to prosper, all that was home, love, light and life to Farron would die. But in the world of rational thought, Farron believed himself master. Fear and dread there served more to spur him to action; to strengthen his resolve; to make him find a way to prevent the thing feared.
But this was different. The attack in the foggy night changed the very nature of fear and dread. The wraith's attack cut a channel from Farron's brain to his heart and all that terror bled straight into his heart. He was healing from the ordeal, physically. At least, he could walk and talk again. He felt hunger, another sign of health. But the more his body healed, the more pronounced the darkness that was eating his heart, draining his will.
He watched as Sa'id greeted the newcomers. In his head he was glad to see his friends again. But in his heart, he wondered if an earlier death might not be better for them all than the death that surely awaited them in the jungle.
From: Mike
Subject: Reunion, continued.
Garyth looks a little startled at first at being kissed, but then smiles sheepishly. "It's good to see you too," he says. "But before we get settled in, I want to check the perimeter. We have reason to believe that we may have been followed." He explains quickly about Tichenor's disappearance and reappearance. Turning out the door, he points to Robert and Vincy. "On me. Quick patrol around the perimeter."
OOC: Ty, from the way you were going to let us RP for a while, I'm going to assume that the patrol doesn't turn anything up, and just continue on with the reunion.
IC:
The patrol completed, Garyth re-enters the inn, feeling a bit as though he's been holding his breath and is finally letting it out. It didn't make much sense, since now that they were all back together the real danger would begin. But things didn't always make perfect sense, and it was good to see his friends again. He takes a seat at the table.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he says, "but we can't be too careful." He pauses a moment, processing all of the questions Sa'id had asked. "The Sunmaster, you say? No, we haven't seen him. Your message spoke of a cleric of Pelor, but I hadn't thought that Sunmaster Fellus, himself, would be the one." He cocks his head, thinking. "I thought the Sunmaster was quite old. Even with bodyguards and servants, the path here through the forest is difficult, to say nothing of the journey to the temple. How would he get here?" He mulls it over briefly, then waves it off. "After the past few weeks, I'll believe just about anything can happen."
He begins to recount the events of the days since he left Nesalin. The battle with the witch and the half-orc, the rout of Nesalin's armies at Overlook, the evacuation of the town. He smiles as he tells Farron that his parents were still well when he separated from the townspeople.
"We've still seen and heard nothing of Melani, though," he says, the smile fading. "It's been several days now. I only hope that she is with her people, safeguarding the townsfolk, and that nothing has befallen her." He is silent for a moment, looking grim, then looks up at Sa'id. "But what of you, my friend?"
Sa'id Catches Up
Subject: Reunion, continued.
Sa'id listens intently to Garyth's account, and does not interrupt. He feels a small amount of... remorse? at the thought of the hard-fought battles he had missed. He could have been there to help them. He could have...
His thoughts trail off.
"But what of you, my friend?" Garyth asks. Sa'id is quiet for a moment, organizing his thoughts.
"Elise murdered Cadfael," he begins. "I can't prove it to the authorities with physical evidence, but it doesn't matter." Holding up a hand to forestall Garyth's questioning look, he adds: "I knew it was her, so I spoke the truth in a holy chamber of Pelor. If I had been lying the god's servants would have killed me where I knelt; that was the nature of the room's enchantment. She has a hold over one of the senior knights, and she framed us for the murder. This was the only way to show our innocence to the Sunmaster."
"But I am getting ahead of myself. One of our former teachers at the wizards' school solved for us the riddle of just what this 'Kor Garesh' really is. Melancthnagesh, the Devourer, is its historical name. It does indeed consume souls to gain power, and if it becomes strong enough to escape its prison it will kill or subvert every living thing on this island. Only through the divine might of Pelor was it imprisoned in the pillar under the mountain a thousand years ago."
He pauses. "And only through that same divinity can its prison be repaired. Sunmaster Fellus plans to meet us here and then return to the mountain so that he can channel Pelor's will and seal the Devourer's prison... before it consumes enough souls to break free." Sa'id doesn't mention that the Sunmaster does not expect to live.
"Because of Elise's machinations, Farron and I had to flee Nesalin without the Sunmaster. Kasen helped us escape, and saved both Farron and I from wraiths that Elise sent after us. We owe him our lives."
"I have every faith," he says firmly, "that the Sunmaster will meet us here regardless of what Elise may do to try and stop him. She will fail. He may or may not be able to convince the authorities of her guilt before he leaves Nesalin... but it doesn't matter. The real battle will be fought at the mountain."
From: Ty
Subject: Reunion, continued.
That was an awesome post, Raja.
That single handedly made me excited to keep the game going.
Thank you.
Another Arrives
Subject: Reunion, and another arrives...
The night passes quickly. The lengthy conversation between reunited friends is kept fueled by Gully's keg of ale, and tongues flow freely. Periodically, men come and go from their place on watches, and in this way all of the remaining Falcon's are introduced to the wizards and Kasen. Despite having lost nearly all of his goods, Gully does his best to play the gracious host. Manut sits silent, staring at Rennik for most of the night. At one point, he sneaks over to touch Renniks weapons, lying on the floor nearby. Gully moves over quickly and grabs him up. In Halfling he says, "Leave the hunters weapons alone! They are not for thickheaded boys. Your weapons are the mop and the broom. Now, get to bed or I will have you wield them both with vigor in the morning."
He sets Manut down and swats him on the butt to send him running. "Silly boy, but I've grown quite fond in the last few weeks. I sent word to his family with a few hunters that were passing through. I admit, I'll be sad when they come get him." He moves Rennik's pack up against the wall and settles it out of the way. When he sees the broken axe strapped to it, he says in Halfling, "Hunter, your weapon is broken. I am a blacksmith. If you are staying here for a few days, I might be able to repair it."
Finally, the group gives in to exhaustion and sleep. The following morning, Osred prays for a spell of restoration, and uses this blessing on Farron. The result is astounding. In an instant, his skin loses its grayish cast, and he regains his former health and vitality.
The group is sitting at the breakfast table when a knock is heard at the door. The men that Garyth has on patrol outside would not bother knocking...
From: Scott
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
It is good to be hidden from the dark sky. Pensive feels it through the night, the way that the bonds of these men, Garyth and the wizards and Rennick, entwines like a roof to keep the Shadow's glare off of them. There is something in this thing, this companionship. . . it is good. Perhaps even holy. Perhaps the Shadow is not to be defeated by sword or magic, but by strength of community. By relationships and friendships, and solid trust. . .
Fanciful thoughts. Pensive looks into the ale that he has barely sipped and grins to himself.
He even sleeps. Not for long, and all night, he clutches the holy symbol. But it is a good sleep. He awakes, and his head does not pound as much as it had out under the open sky. The Shadow tickles at him, scratches, whines-- but he is not oppressed by it.
The others still sleep. Pensive watches them in the darkness. He can make out the slender forms of the sleeping wizards, the bulk of the warrior Kaselin, the long, slender form of Garyth, and the hammer-tight lump that is Rennick. And Osred is snoring there.
A sudden longing fills Pensive. "I would be one of you," he almost whispers. He would. This morning, he feels the desire for community more strongly than ever since arriving. Odd that he should, he knows. He is Asha Eradu, he can feel what others feel, should he not be one of them? Should he not fit in with them? Should he not be their companion and brother? But the gift that makes him Asha Eradu makes him draw away. Their feelings are not to be searched out, pried open like books or trunks. When they come upon him, so let them come-- but Pensive will not grasp after them just to assuage his loneliness.
There are other ways, perhaps. He has grown out of the habit of service inculcated into the monks of the Path of Blood and Stone. Pensive creeps over to one of the sleeping wizards-- the dark one, Sa'id. He lifts his empty boots off the floor next to him, and makes his way to the table in the great room. In the dimness, he polishes the wizard's boots as best he can, in quitness and solitude. The other wizard next, and then Rennick. He is very careful with the armored men's boots, to keep them quiet while he works.
The tattoo on the back of his neck is warm, spreading slowly down through his biceps and wrists. Here is something the Mossground never intended-- its gift of the Stonesash being used to polish his companion's boots. The cloth he uses is a common rag, but in Pensive's hands, it is silk or wool, or scouring brush exactly as he needs it, when he needs it.
And more. Doing this service, his mind stretches out across the island. Where men fall to Shadow. Where hearts fill with Sand. And this time, he does not try to withdraw. He pushes into their feelings, tries to tell them. . . of a roof made of companionship, a light of fellowship, a strength in hope. It is something he has not done before, thrusting his own feelings out to others, and he cannot say whether he is successful. The Path would turn as it would, and perhaps he reached no one tonight.
But the thistle tattoo on his neck burns as hotly as blood. Success or no, this thing he was doing was right.
There are no more boots to be polished. Pensive leaves Garyth's next to him, and turns to see the halfling boy watching him. He falters a moment, then raises his finger to his lips. The boy gives him no sign that he understands, just continues to watch him with wide, dark eyes. Pensive smiles uncertainly, and leaves the cabin to exercise and meditate until dawn, and to see how well the roof of companionship bears up under the view of the sky.
OOC: This takes place before the knocking at the door. Pensive has returned for breakfast by the time he hears the knocking at the door.
IC:
Pensive glances at Garyth and Gully, then stands up. "I don't suppose the undead know to knock before entering," he says to Osred. "Do they?"
He is quite serious.
From: Raja
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
Jeepers, Scott. After that, I'm practically ashamed of my last couple of turns.
Wow.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
A good night's sleep inside, followed by a hot breakfast made such a difference. What's more, someone had cleaned his boots for him. Garyth is leaning back in his chair, pondering who his secretive benefactor might be--Gully, perhaps, or Manut?--when a knock sounds at the door. He's on his feet, his hands flying to his weapons, before he even has time to think about it.
The Falcons wouldn't have knocked. Whoever this was had to have gotten through them first, and without them calling out. If it's an enemy, it's either very stealthy or very strong. Although, if it's an enemy, it's rather polite.
Pensive must have been thinking the same thing. He says, "I don't suppose the undead know to knock before entering. Do they?" Garyth shakes his head. Still, there's no telling who it was until the door is open. He motions for Osred and Vincy to take up positions flanking the door, out of the sight lines when the door opens. He cautiously approaches, leaving his weapons sheathed, and reaches out toward the handle.
From: Jake
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
Osred's longsword, freshly oiled as part of his morning's devotions, slides from its sheath nearly silently. He steps to one side, sword held ready, and waits to see who comes through the door.
From: Raja
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
My... boots?
Someone polished my boots?
Manut, maybe?
Sa'id is still pondering when the knock sounds. Garyth responds immediately, directing his men.
"Wait," Sa'id says. "I'll cast a spell of warding." As he did when Garyth knocked, Sa'id stands about ten feet from the door and murmurs his incantation softly [Magic Circle Against Evil].
The necromancer nods. "You can open it now."
Meet Bartok
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
Could you forward it to me. I got this, but not whatever you are referring to.
From: Karl
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
Did we get a turn from Ty? If so I missed it.
Karl
From: Karl
Subject: Re: Reunion, and another arrives...
The camaraderie escapes Farron. He sits quietly wondering what blindness could allow the men around him any respite from the oppressive gloom. They think themselves warriors, he says in his heart, but all they are is the walking dead, as doomed as the zombie in the tunnel in the jungle.
Farron drinks the ale he is given, but it brings no joy or solace. He can feel it relaxing his worn and tired body and he fears what might happen if he allows it to relax his heart. Would the darkness, bled there from his head, consume him completely if he let it go? Almost he was tempted to release it and see, but he was afraid. Maybe it was a last burst of self-preservation that made him hold the darkness tight. If he held it tightly enough, maybe it couldn't strike a mortal wound. But holding it so close, it had ample opportunity to gnaw.
Sleep came, but not easily. Someone was stirring, but Farron was too tired to open his eyes. He dreamed of the blackness, shapeless and cold, and in the dream he held it tightly in his arms where it writhed and turned, trying to get in a position to strike. I can't get rid of it and I can't hold it alone, he thinks in his dream. Then the thought comes that he is not alone and in his dream the darkness shudders. And did the grayness around him lighten just a little? Farron couldn't tell. Again the darkness shuddered, and then it spoke. The words were cold and scratched at his brain like rusted wire. "No, you are not alone. Look at the men around you, Farron, each marked for death. Embrace me or release me. Either way I will have you, and with your strength then I will have them." The darkness shuddered again, but the grayness around them both seemed to lighten a little bit more. The marked dead around them seemed a little more warm, a little more like friends. Farron held the darkness tighter. He could not let it out. He could not let it consume the men around him, no matter how it gnawed. The dream fades as Farron is awakened by the sounds of the others stirring.
The priest arises from his morning meditations and approaches Farron as he rises to a kneel. The priest says something about healing but all Farron can muster is a shrug. Even so, the priest lays his hands on Farron's head and recites a prayer. Farron feels warmth fall across him, as if the gloomy sky had cracked in one tiny place and the sun could touch him even through Gully's roof. The warmth penetrated deep in Farron's body and he could feel the blood flow more freely, his heart pump with more vigor. He saw the color return to his arms and hand. He felt thedarkness in his heart shudder and twist violently and he longed to let it go. If Ido, it will consume me and my friends he thinks, and sobs under the priests hands. Afraid of losing his control he pulls away, nodding his thanks and hoping the others were too busy with their own business to notice him.
After a minute he regains control and turns back, though avoiding any other glances. He looks at his boots which look shiny through the wetness of his eyes. He rubs away the remnants of tears and notices that the shininess wasn't just an illusion. Someone had polished his boots. Manut, he thinks, and goes to the Halfling boy. "Thank you, Manut" he says, but the Halfling just shakes his head. "Then who?", but the Halfling just looks at the ground. Farron looks around the group, but everyone seems to be admiring the polish on their boots. And indeed the polish on his own was admirable. He wonders briefly on this and tries to catch a glance to see who it might have been when he is interrupted by a knock at the door.
From: Mark
Subject: door
Is anyone going to open the door?
Mark
From: Scott
Subject: Re: door
No. :)
We're not satisfied that you've suffered enough. So we're taking our annual Christmas hiatus right now.
See you in March, everyone!
:-D
From: Mark
Subject: Re: door
I hates you Robertsess, hates you forever. :)(Insert Gollum sounds here)
Mark
From: Scott
Subject: Re: door
:)
I think it's safe to assume that Garyth is opening the door.
Scott
From: Ty
Subject: A new arrival
Garyth moves to the door, his men moving quietly into flanking positions. Behind him, Rennik moves over to his bow, and the wizards step a few feet apart, giving themselves clear line of sight to the doorway. Garyth looks back, and smiles a grim smile. These people had been through a lot, and it had made them into hard men. No matter what happened now, they would not be taken down easily.
He turns and opens the door quickly, his hands ready to fly to his weapons. But on the other side is a Halfling, standing back a few feet from the door and looking suspiciously at Garyth. Garyth finds to his surprise that he can recognize the tribal markings and features. A Kalama. Like Melani. Not an enemy.
From: Mark
Subject: Re: A new arrival
The little halfling looks the man up and down. "You would be the human Gary'th? I was sent from my tribe with news and an offer of help from my cheiftan. Would you hear me?"
This hafling is just over 3" tall, very dark black hair, green eyes and very tanned skin. He has a large coil of rope over one shoulder and a huge sword over the other.
From: Mark
Subject: Re: A new arrival
The halfling also has a bow slung over his shoulder. It looks vaugley familiar to Rennik.
From: Karl
Subject: Re: A new arrival
If he's just over three inches tall, how big is the "huge sword"?
From: Scott
Subject: Re: A new arrival
It's Tom Thumb!
From: Mark
Subject: Re: A new arrival
But it is a +10 sword, so watch out. I traded height for magic. :)
Obviously it is 3' not 3".
Mark
From: Karl
Subject: Re: A new arrival
It's no surprise he stepped back from the door, though. One reckless move an SQUISSSHHHH!
From: Scott
Subject: Re: A new arrival
"Do you think he's compensating for something?" says Kor Garesh nastily.
From: Karl
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Oh, it often the obvious mistakes that are the funniest. ;)
From: Ty
Subject: next turn
I am going to let you guys run with the reunion and Bartok stuff as long as you want.
Check in when you are done and I will write the next turn.
From: Mark
Subject: Re: next turn
I was waiting for the rousing welcome. Bartock is starting to think he went to the wrong house. He is going to go down the road to the next trading post. :)
Mark
From: Mike
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Garyth cocks an eyebrow. What was a Kalama warrior doing here? Confused, but no longer tense, he motions for Osred and Vincy to stand down.
"Welcome, Kalama," he says. "You have the right of it; I am Garyth." He steps back to allow the halfling in. "Come in. I will hear your message."
From: Mark
Subject: Re: A new arrival
The halfling looks up at all the big men in the room. "I am Bartock, scout of the Kalama." He offers his hand in the human way of greeting. Garyth takes the hand, and the two shake. Bartock enters the room and sits. "I have travelled for many hours looking for you. Food would be nice." With that he speaks to Manuta in halfling. "Boy, get me some food and something to drink."
While sitting and waiting for the food to come Bartock tells his tale.
"First, my chieftan wanted me to report to you something we have found that worries us." He holds out the bow that had been across his shoulders. "Do you recognize this?" Only Rennik nods, knowing what it means. "This is the bow of Melani, the first scout of the Kalama. I found it several days ago in a clearing. There had been a fight and the bow had been left in the dust. We fear she is dead, for she would not leave this bow, it was too important to her." Bartock bows his head and says a quick prayer to the spirits of his family.
When he is done he continues. "My chieftan has thought of what you have told him you are going to try and do and what you have already done. He thinks you may need some one who knows how to climb. I am the best climber in my tribe. I offer my help to you, if you will have it."
Mark
From: Matt
Subject: Re: A new arrival
(Rewind a bit)
At Gully's offer, Rennik bows with deep respect.
"Your skills as a keeper of the forge would do me great honor, friend Gully. I have fought with this bastard weapon for longer than I hoped I would have to after the she-bitch Elise destroyed the haft of my axe. I would be greatly in your debt."
Returning to the fire, Rennik feels strangely at home with these humans and the elf, sitting and eating in warmth and comfort. Times have been so dark that he had almost forgotten the companionship of feast and flame, and he welcomed the distraction from the coming battle.
Taking his patrol rotation, he wondered if this would be the last time he enjoyed restful companionship, the last time of rest before the great battle, before his death.
Returning to the circle of flame and friends, he listens to the stories of the long lost companions, sharing in their victories and close calls. When the boy Manut eyes his weapons, a wry smile crosses his lips as he remembers his father slapping him away from his battle axe during his scrabbling days. Gully's intervention prompts a chuckle from Rennik, but turns his mood.
If their mission failed, Manut would need to learn the ways of a weapon quickly - along with all the residents of the island. Women, children, the old and sick... none would be safe from the black god's wrath. All would have to fight. Watching the boy's eyes linger on his weapons as Gully moved them to the side of the room turned Rennik's thoughts to the coming confrontation again, and he quickly lost his appetite.
The knock at the door snapped him back to the present and found him tumbling across the room to his quiver and bow. Coming up with arrow notched toward the door, he watched Manut's startled face and heard the elf joke at the danger.
At the sight of the Kalama scout, Rennik immediately loosened the tension on the bowstring and stood. He did not remember the halfling's face from his time in the Kalama village, but the bow on his back made his heart sink. He knew that Melani was dead - or worse. He only hoped that he would not have to kill her soulless, unyielding body in the coming nights.
The halfling's words were just as Rennik expected. Curt and without hesitation. The tale of the bow was told plainly, as was his purpose, and the prayer to the gods comforted Rennik's soul. He could be very valuable.
"Ath'tenn Bartock," Rennik says as he comes forward toward the scout to take his forearm in greeting. "It honors us that the Belneth would send us aid. You are surely welcome to join our quest"
After a moment, he adds, "how is it that you carry the Reth'tenn's bow? Are you kin, or do you seek to return it to your tribe?"
From: Matt
Subject: Re: A new arrival
OOC: Bartock? As in http://www.sonic.net/mnitepub/pccafe/reviews/anastasia/bartok.jpg ?
From: Matt
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Also, I would imagine Rennik's boots aren't shined, as he sleeps with all of his gear very close and would have woken if someone took any of it for any period. (Unless there is something else afoot, in which case he would be intensely suspicious.)
From: Mark
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Bartock shakes his head sadly. "Melani was the last of her family. Many of the Kamala have died fighting this evil, and her brother and parents had already fallen to the darkness. As to her and I being kin, it is possible. All of the Kamala are kin somewhere back. I keep the bow as a sign of my respect for her, hoping against hope that I might return it to her. I have little of her skill with it."
Mark
More Pleasantries
Subject: Re: A new arrival
I am going to have to learn how to spell my own characters name.
It is Bartok.
Mark
From: Scott
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Pensive frowns at the arrival of the halfling. He'll mention to Garyth that if Bartok got through the watches, so might their enemies. If they're going to be spending a few days here, they might as well make themselves secure.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Garyth's smile fades at Bartok's news. Another comrade fallen. This would be the way of things if they did not succeed. Little by little, all resistance would fail before the demon until there was nothing left in the world but ruin.
"We are glad to have your help, Ath'tenn," he says, using the title he'd heard Rennik use. "Gaining another sword against the demon is a blessing and I should be happier to accept it, but your news is grave. Reth'tenn Melani was a good friend. What's more, she had been travelling ahead of a large group of my people seeking shelter in Kalama lands. Melani intended to ask your chieftain to aid them, but it seems she never made it. Tell me, have they yet arrived? Has your chieftain given them his protection?"
From: Mark
Subject: Re: A new arrival
The halfling nods gravely. "Yes, your people made it to our forest. The spirits know how we will feed them all, but the Belneth said that it must be done. Your people are safe, or at least as safe as any one can be in this time. Now, who are your friends here? The Chordath I recognize, but the others I do not know."
Mark
From: Mark
Subject: leaving
Bartok is surprised at how quiet everyone is while he eats. When he is done he asks" When do we leave?"
Mark
Garyth Introduces the Group
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Farron takes the news of Melani's death almost as something expected. He puts a hand to his chest as he feels the darkness in his heart smile. Once more the best of one's tribe proves no match for the evil they face.
From: Mark
Subject: Re: A new arrival
OOC: You know, I appriciate all the sorrowful feelings about her death, but damn it, I wish every one knew, characters in the game that is, that she took out the witch. Where ever she is her spirit is doing high fives saying "I got the bitch."
Mark
From: Karl
Subject: Re: A new arrival
That would probably be some consolation to Farron, at least. As far as he knows, the witch is probably brewing a mess o black tentacles right outside the door at this very moment.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: A new arrival
Good. Leaving the town halfway to their destination had been difficult for Garyth. Knowing that they arrived safely is a relief. With the Kalama, the people of Overlook will be as safe as anywhere else on the island. If Garyth and his party do not succeed, it's only a matter of time before the Kalama lands are overrun, but at least if he dies now he'll go knowing he did all he could do.
Bartok is still talking. "Now, who are your friends here? The Chordath I recognize, but the others I do not know."
"Of course," says Garyth. "You must have seen my men standing watch outside. I'll introduce you to them later, and you can tell them how you got past them so easily, so that we won't be caught unaware if someone less friendly should show up." He keeps his tone conversational, hiding the frustration he feels at having his preparations so easily bypassed. He glances at Osred. From the look on his face, he's feeling it as well. No doubt he'll have a few words for the men, himself.
Since he's already looking at him, he nods toward Osred. "That is Osred, my sergeant. On the other side of the door is Vincy, my corporal. They and the two outside are my squad, of the Blood Falcons of Nesalin." He turns and indicates the wizards. "These are Sa'id and Farron, wizards from the college in Nesalin." He turns back to Bartok, looking him in the eye. "I know some of your people distrust magic users, but these two men have proven themselves strong and wise and good men many times over, and they are my friends. I trust them with my life, so if you have any misgivings about them I hope you will keep silent about it."
He holds Bartok's gaze for a moment longer, then turns back to the group. "The other two are Kasen, a knight's squire from Nesalin, and Pensive, who comes from the Mossground on the mainland. And, as you said, Rennik of the Chorrdath you know." He turns back to Bartok. "A ragtag bunch, we are, but somehow we've managed to come this far and I know no others I'd rather have at my side."
Questions and Answers
Subject: Questions and Answers
Pensive approaches Sa'id and Farron and lays a long hand on Farron's shoulder. "We should speak a moment-- I have some questions to ask about what you discovered about our enemy, and some information for you as well."
"I am the stranger, here, so I will start: I am Asha Eradu-- I can feel emotions from other people sometimes. I can feel Kor Garesh in his mountain, hungering for souls. I have felt him stretch his will out to people in Overlook, influencing their actions toward violence and despair. What I know from this is that Kor Garesh is hungry and undisciplined. He is a. . . bear, waking up from winter. There is cunning, but I do not believe that He is a tactician."
Pensive then relates the whole tale of his meeting with the two spies in Overlook, how they were looking still for Mission's child. "I don't know where Mission went after I left him that night. I hope he has taken the Kaishin home. But the fact that Kor Garesh isn't omnipresent is a great comfort."
"What did your studies discover of our enemy, beyond his name?"
Pensive and Farron; Waiting for the Sunmaster
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
Farron looks up at the stranger, Pensive, then looks away, quickly to Sa'id. It wasn't that he couldn't answer perfectly well himself, but he did not want to look at Pensive directly. "Asha Eradu", the word was strange to Farron. That this Pensive could feel emotions was something else, though. Could he feel the darkness in Farron's heart? What would he think?
The silence had lasted too long. Sa'id just looked blankly at Farron, apparently expecting him to answer. So Farron relates to Pensive all that they learned in Nesalin. (ooc- I know that's a cop out. I can't remember all the details and I haven't got time to search the archives - well, not and write this, too. ;-) )
As he relates the details of their research, Farron cannot bring himself to look Pensive in the eye. He knows this is silly, and sure to draw the attention of the elf, but nonetheless his eyes move from Sa'id to the walls to the top of Pensive's head, finally resting on the elf's chin, anywhere but his eyes. He finishes telling what he knows, then adds:
"Kor Garesh may not be omnipresent, but he sees far enough. His spies seem to be everywhere. He has committed murders in Nesalin so far with impunity. From what you've said, he's destroyed Overlook. And he grows more powerful with each soul he claims." Farron stops. His voice had risen. He wasn't raving, but he heard the other conversation in the room drop off. "It's just that it seems there is nowhere he can't get in, if he really wants to," he finishes quietly.
From: Ty
Subject: Waiting for the Sunmaster
Robert and Munch come in for breakfast, and Vincy and Osred take their places on watch. Munch simply grabs a hunk of bread and curls up by the fire. Robert takes his time putting together a plate. He is in the middle of neatly laying strips of bacon on a slice of bread, when he sees the Kalama scout. "Oh, hello." He looks confused.
Garyth nods. "Yes, he is new. No, he was not here last night. In fact, he walked up and knocked on the door an hour ago. How do you explain that, Falcon?"
Robert casts a panicky glance at Munch, but the other Falcon is doing his best to look asleep. "He must have snuck right past us." He hurries to add, "But those Halflings are ghosts in the forest! You know that! And it's dark as damnation out there!"
Garyth stands up. "Private, if this Kalama scout can sneak past you, then perhaps a Murrkat scout can do the same. Do you understand?" Robert nods. "Good. Then the two of you can go stand another watch with Osred and Vincy, and demonstrate to them that you have learned a new level of alertness."
Robert and Munch stuff their pockets with food and head for the door. Garyth says just as they are leaving, "Oh. And I might have Bartok here sneak out and have a look around. If he gets past you again, you may NEVER get off of patrol duty again for the rest of your life. Got me?" The two men nod, and head out.
Gully chuckles, and puts on a thick leather apron. Turning to Rennik he says, "Let's fire the forge, and see if we can't fix that fine weapon of yours. Would you mind putting those muscles to work for me on the bellows?" He and Rennik head outside, and an hour later the roar of the forge is heard, followed by occasional hammering sounds.
Farron and Sa'id sit at a table, poring over spellbooks and discussing magical strategies for the fight to come. Garyth sits nearby listening. At one point he interrupts. "You can pretty much guaranty that we won't be able to use the same secret passage. They know where that is. And we are going to have to get the Sunmaster, a man you say is old enough that walking is a struggle, up close enough to the pillar to do whatever it is he plans to do. And while he does it, we have to keep the demon's hordes from swarming and devouring him. How do we do that? My men are good, but we are talking about possibly hundreds of enemies, some undead, some not. There's no way we can do it with muscle and steel."
Pensive sits staring dreamily into the fire during this conversation. When he speaks, it is quiet and seems to come from far away. "No. The army is not at the mountain. They are off killing the town on the eastern shore of the island. I can feel the town dying..."
Garyth shudders. "Well enough then. But I doubt the demon is without defenses, even if the army is otherwise.... Occupied."
Bartok speaks up. "The Belneth sent me for a reason. He said you would need my skills. He specifically mentioned climbing. He is wise in many things that others do not see. The forest speaks to him."
Kasen has been sitting at another table polishing his greatsword. He says, "How long do we wait for the Sunmaster? And if he does not come, what do we do then?" The ambush by the wraiths still weighs on his mind.
From: Scott
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
OOC: Ty, so far Pensive's special ability has been more an RP thing, but if he can sense from Farron the despondency that Farron is feeling, it could make ripples in the game. What's your call on this? Can Pensive sense what Farron is feeling?
"It's just that it seems there is nowhere he can't get in, if he really wants to," Farron finishes quietly.
"No." Pensive looks sharply at the mage. "There was an old woman in the town who resisted it. I felt the Shadow try to influence her, but she pushed it away."
From: Karl
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
Maybe the shadow didn't want her that badly, Farron thinks. Maybe he didn't think she was worth the struggle, knowing she'd never outrun his minions, so he'd have her in due time regardless. Or maybe the truth is that I'm weaker than a feeble old woman.
"Yes," he says to the Elf, still avoiding his eyes, but feeling them on him nonetheless. "You're probably right." He lowers his face back to his spellbook, wishing he could close himself up inside the rich leather cover.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: Waiting for the Sunmaster
Garyth looks over at Kasen. The idea that the Sunmaster might not come hadn't occurred to him, and it's a sobering thought. This is not a battle that can be won by force of arms. Only the gods are strong enough to contain the demon. Without the Sunmaster, what hope did they have of sealing the demon's prison? What hope of victory? The only thing that remained was to choose how they die. They could turn back and try to fight the demon's armies, or go ahead to the mountain and try to fight the demon directly. But in the end, both paths lead to the same place.
He wipes a hand across his eyes. "I can't choose any man's path but my own, but I would go to the mountain, even without the Sunmaster. It's a path without hope, but there is no hope in any other direction either. If I'm to die, I would die facing my enemy. And who knows? If I've come to learn anything from what I've seen this far, it's that the ways of the gods are beyond my reckoning. Pelor may smile on us yet."
From: Scott
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
Pensive catches his breath, and keeps his tongue.
Standing next to Farron is like breathing smoke. The Shadow had twined itself around the mage's heart-- his desperation burns Pensive's sinuses.
The elf takes a step back, collects himself. Wraps the memory of cameraderie around himself like a cloak. "I've felt his touch," he says quietly. "I know what he tempts men toward. Fear, rage, destruction. . . despondency. He is strong-- but there is a thing in men that is stronger than him. I've felt that as well. Perhaps we shall die-- perhaps we shall be devoured by the Shadow. But we tie our fates together, we bind ourselves by trust to a common vision. And that weakens the Shadow in a way that swords or magery or prayers may not be able to.
"I am not deluded into thinking that we can break the Shadow by. . . cameraderie. But we protect ourselves through it. I believe that with everything that I am."
More Pensive and Farron; At the Forge
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
Pensive catches Garyth alone and says to him, "Your friend Farron is in danger. I can feel Kor Garesh's influence within him, driving him to despair. I'm. . . not sure how to approach him directly about this. I thought that since you are his friend, you might be able to help him better than I would be able to."
From: Karl
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
Camaraderie. Farron looks up from his spellbook, still not meeting the Elf's eyes. He looks around the room at his companions. He remembers the struggles the party had even to be civil to one another in the beginning. Who of these men would call him "friend"? Sa'id, of course. Thank Fate for Sa'id. But who else? Were it not for the fact that they were all thrown together in the same cauldron, who else here would have looked twice at him? Rennik? He lived for his tribe and family. Would he be here at all if his hatred of Kor Garesh weren't personal? Rennik had always acted like the rest the party was a burden, just slowing him down in the jungle. Mission? Well, he did have a duty to his son. He could hardly be expected to stick around. And it was best that the baby be as far from Kor Garesh as possible. But weren't we all just tools to Mission? What camaraderie was there between him and any of the party he left behind? Garyth? He was from Overlook. Overlook that teased Farron as a boy and thought him strange. Overlook that Farron could hardly wait to leave when he was younger. Garyth was a good man, but Farron didn't feel anything of the camaraderie or even respect that he was showing now to even the lowest of his fellow soldiers.
"War makes strange bedfellows, that's for sure," he says quietly. "But is a common enemy enough to make lasting ties?" He lowers his voice so only the Elf will hear. "Who of this group would think twice of the others if we weren't fighting for our lives? Who would not forsake the lot of us for the promise to go back to the way things were?"
Farron pauses at the implication of his own question. Would HE forsake the lot for such a promise? He thought of what he would regain - a lonely apartment, an aunt and uncle he rarely saw? He had a good job and money to spare, but what was that worth, really? What would be lost from the world if the wraiths had done their job just a little bit better?
He watched as Garyth left with the Halfling newcomer. He was bound to be heading off to give a tongue lashing to his guards. Farron almost envied them.
He looks the Elf in the eyes for the first time. "What common vision do we share that doesn't end at the mountain, one way or another?"
From: Karl
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
(ooc - that's cool. You wrote this before I replied to your last, but I wrote that before I read this. Seems like we're both thinking "this looks like a job for Garyth." ;-)
From: Mike
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
OOC: Karl, the last thing Garyth said about Farron was when he was introducing the group to Bartok, and he specifically called Farron his friend. I just wanted to make sure that everyone got that message, since no one replied to it. I also sent one out yesterday around 11 AM PST. Did everyone get that one?
From: Raja
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
"I am Asha Eradu-- I can feel emotions from other people sometimes."
I'll have to kill him.
The thought is complete before Sa'id can squelch it, crush it, stuff it back into that dark place in his subconscious mind where he has hidden such things. Like his dreams... one comes rushing back to him now, a dream of fire and death. The Devourer's undead turning to him for guidance in the absence of their master. He could wreak bloody vengeance on Elise... or maybe...
He shakes his head to clear it. These thoughts and dreams were not his, they were born of the Devourer's influence.
Or were they? Sa'id was working to seal the horror away, remove its influence from the world. It had nothing to gain by giving him ideas. But its defeat would leave a void at the head of the undead army.
Stop. Stop this. The Elf might sense it, he might suspect... What am I thinking? Farron looks at him, maybe for guidance, maybe for support... had he been talking? Sa'id murmurs a prayer to Pelor under his breath, and makes a small gesture of warding with one hand. It doesn't matter what my motives might be, or whether I myself know what they are. All that matters is the task.
He stands up abruptly. "Excuse me, I need to study. To clear my head." Sa'id walks from the main room to the smaller one where he'd slept. He sits cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the room and closes his eyes.
From: Ty
Subject: Waiting for the Sunmaster; At the forge
Gully leads Rennik to the forge in a small shed outside the trading post. He lights a fire, and slowly begins feeding charcoal into it. When it is burning well, he says to Rennik, "Begin pumping the bellows." The bellows handle is high for him, but his shoulders and back are well muscled from years of axe practice. He hooks a toe under the bottom of the bellow, and begins pulling the upper handle down. Within moments, the forge fire has grown so intense that the small rooms becomes unbearably hot. Gully throws open the doors and windows, but the temperature only drops a little. Soon, both men are stripped down to just their pants and the heavy leather aprons.
Gully takes the broken axe head from Rennik respectfully. Clearly, he has handled the weapons of the Halfling tribes before, and knows that they carry great spiritual value to the tribal hunters. Over the roar of the forge, Rennik can barely here Gully's prayer. "Mielikki, make my fire grow hot, give my arm strength, grant my hands skill." Rennik gives the big trader a long look. Had he been out here in the wilds so long that he had gone native? Or was he praying for the benefit of Rennik's feelings?
In time though, all of that is forgotten, as the exhausting work of pulling the bellows goes on and on. First, Gully takes a long flat piece of iron and heats it red hot. Then he uses the anvils cutting chisel and his hammer to cut a small end off of it. Then comes the long and painstaking work of attaching the new piece of metal to the jagged end where Elise's blade cut through. It takes all morning, but by early afternoon, Gully plunges the newly refitted head into a barrel of water to temper it. When he pulls it out, a smile spreads across his soot covered face. He hands the axe head to Rennik. "It's a good bit of work, if I do say so myself. It'll hold good as new. I can probably find a stout bit of oak for the haft. Let me look around for one. I'd bet she'll be ready to swing by the morrow."
From: Karl
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
This is the first email from you I've seen today.
I did get the attached email below earlier, but quite frankly I had forgotten it. You can play it that Farron didn't hear, or perhaps didn't recognize it as anything more than common pleasantry.
In my last turn, I tried to convey that Farron doesn't hold any ill feelings toward Garyth. If anything, he's just feeling bad about the whole situation right now and is looking negatively at everything.
I hope I'm not playing Farron as too dark or too loose a cannon. Should I lighten up or just see what you guys can do with him?
From: Scott
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
The desire to speak with these men is snuffed out of
Pensive-- Farron was obviously being corrupted by the Shadow, and the other. . . was odd. He smelled like cold metal.
Pensive excuses himself from Farron. "I will think on what you told me of Kor Garesh. Thank you, Farron."
From: Scott
Subject: Re: Questions and Answers
OOC: D'oh! Forgot to respond to this. .
"What common vision do we share that doesn't end at the mountain, one way or another?"
Pensive answers, "Who can say what may have happened if the Path had turned to the left instead of the right? The Path is not straight, nor is it soft. . . We walk where it leads us. And we find companions on the Path that can lift us, or who we can help lift. That is what is important."
Pensive's Dream
Subject: eating
Bartok finishes eating, burps, says, "Exuse me" and looks at the group, hoping someone will let him know when they are going to leave.
From: Ty
Subject: Looking down on Huss; A different perspective
Pensive stands motionless on a great desolate plain, hot foul smelling wind shrieks past him, but he pays it no attention. Around him, stretching out as far as the eye can see, stand his legions. They are smaller, impatient creatures, and while he stands perfectly still, they shift and chatter and clack about him. Even so, their gaze never leaves him. They too are waiting.
He stretches out with his senses, past the impatient hordes around him, past the empty desert they stand in, to the very limit of his powers. There. The others, also waiting, their general reaching out to him. A brief touch of minds, and recognition. The enemy has come. Pensive roars out to his troops, and they screech and scream in response, and then charge across the plains at the enemy that is also charging at them.
The two armies slam together with an impact that shakes the very air, and in seconds the slaughter begins. Demons of every horrific form imaginable rip and slash at each other in mindless fury. Dying by the thousands every moment of the battle. Pensive wades into the fray, grabbing and tearing apart any enemy that comes within the reach of his hands. Almost without thought, magics flow out of him; fire and ice and terrible shadow magic that twists the mind shatter all those around him. And those magics that are hurled at him in return he shrugs off with contempt, pausing only long enough to destroy the impertinent spell caster before moving on.
The battle goes on and on. Days, years, time has no meaning in the endless chaos of this eternal war. At one point, he spots the enemy general and charges across the field at him, stomping and rending all those lesser troops that stand in between. He and his enemy collide and go down in a blur of claws and magic. All around them the battle stops, while the troops scream encouragement to their leaders. Finally, Pensive gains the advantage and hurls his enemy to the ground, leaping on top of him and sinking his teeth into the flesh of his throat. Pensive drinks deep of blood and... something else. Something and rushes into him like liquid fire, filling him with energy. His enemy deflates like a punctured bladder, and eventually turns to ash. Pensive stands up, towering over his corpse and the armies standing on all sides, then screams triumph at the blood red and black sky.
His army routes the enemy that day. But even as he moves across the field in triumph, something touches him. A terrible groping power that rips a hole in the sky and yanks him through it. There is blackness for a time, and then when his vision returns, he stands in a circle of power, surrounded by tiny wizards. They speak to him, demanding his service and obedience. Demanding answers to their questions. But Pensive is far more than these tiny pretenders to power realize. He wipes away their runes and protections with a laugh. Their demands change to screams...
And there are so many of them. A giant city filled with small bright lives to take. Pensive is filled to overflowing with power stolen from them. Their mages and priests hurl their best magics at him, but in the end they all wind up as fuel for the furnace burning in his core. Until the last few priests are cornered, huddling in their temple. Pensive moves toward them, his mind empty except for his hunger and rage. A golden room, and bright light, and something even more vast and ancient than himself moves...
Eternity locked in stone. Endless days burned by the hated sun at midday. Nothing but rage and memories of power to fuel him. Images pass through his mind in a flash. Power drained away by the same wizardry that summoned him. A greedy mage makes a crack. A servant on the outside now, the wizard brings him more souls to consume. Some of his strength returns over the long slow millennia.
His reach spreads. All the tiny little sparks of life moving around on his island prisoner. Some are darker, and those he can speak to in their dreams. He tells them of power easily gained. Some come to him. One comes with her belly filled with power, enough power to shatter his prison and turn him lose on the world again. A strange blank spot in his vision appears, and the power filled boy is taken away. But there are many others to take in his place. His power grows outside the prison, plunging the island into darkness, and his armies move across unhindered. The stream of lives sent to feed him turns from a trickle to a river. Soon. Soon...
Pensive knows that soon it will be enough. The walls around him weaken by the day. And he is so very hungry.
*******************************************
Pensive wakes before dawn. He walks outside and turns to face the east. The cloud cover over Kessel glows a malignant red. The demon stirs and struggles in its cage. When will the priest arrive?
From: Ty
Subject: Waiting on the Sunmaster
OODM:
Currently, the group has been waiting one full day for the sunmaster. Yesterday, Rennik and Gully fixed the halfling's axe.
Does anyone want to take any special actions on this second day?