The bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Kassen. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral.
They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. After a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal through. He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.
Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk. Once again the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Kassen himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Kassen’s tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?
He looks around the square expectantly and the crowd hold their breath in anticipation.
Out of the crowd shuffles a well-dressed dwarven man with brown eyes and long, neat gray hair and beard. His outfit has a large cross sewn into the sleeve, the symbol of Kraggodan's Chirurgeon Corps. The dwarf bodily shoulders his way to the front of the crowd, drawing many indignant grunts and complaints, but he pays them no mind. The tap-tap-tak of his well-worn leather boots and his heavy-looking ornate walking stick reverberate through the square as he moves to stand in front of the crowds, before Mayor Uptal. Draped across his body is larger satchel with the same Chirurgeon Corps symbol on it, and in his belt are a handful of small vials filled with an odd-looking amber liquid.
"Doctor Savren Redforge steps forward," he states in a loud, but calm and friendly voice. His teeth practically shine as he smiles ear to ear.
Grobradon tries not to seem too eager. At last he has a chance to prove himself to everyone and maybe shut up the folks who give he and his brother dirty looks just because of their blood and Grimscar's ####! Still, despite his attempt to seem nonchalant, he takes a WIDE step forward and declares, "I, Grobradon, go forth with pride."
He looks fierce and ready, but has to fight a smile as his mother beams at him with pride of her own.
He glances just for a moment at his other family, hoping he's coming along.
A brown haired young man with a goatee standing six feet tall makes his way from the temple.
The people of this town have honored me by giving me a place it is now time I honored them in return.
The young man wearing shining chainmail and carrying a heavy wooden shield nods toward Father Praast as he continues to make his way towards the mayor.
his cape shows a glowing sword of Iomedae, he has a long sword and morning star upon his side.
I Xavier Montgomery, cleric of Iomedae, humbly submit myself to this task. I wish only to honor this place and people as they have honored me.
And with that Xavier goes to one knee in front of the mayor right hand over his heart.
The tall but seldom seen half-orc comes padding softly through the crowd, shifting his broad shoulder subtly, passing through the densely packed people with nary a ripple. A powerful looking bow is over his shoulder and a heavy flail swings at his hip. A dark cloak is secured at his shoulders, mud spattering the bottom edges, and equally dirty soft leather boots move him silently over the cobblestones.
He stops once he's abreast of Grobradon and, hookign his thumbs on his belt, states, "I will go." and much, much quieter he says so only his brother can hear "Someone's got to watch your back."
Walking out of the crowd, who move to the sides once they notice just who and what walking at her side is passing through, comes Nilofar. There are some unusual whispers, for the most part, mostly due to the fantastical nature of the creature at Nilofar's side, but more importantly, due to the public display of magics.
Nilofar, while walking along, is a 5'8" tall female with obvious ethnic Chelixan heritage; midnight black hair, thick and long, with a subtle wavy to it, pale skin that's seen some sun, yet stubbornly refuses to go the way of bronze, and dark emerald green eyes. Even more striking, however, is a glowing rune, silently emblazoned in a dark reddish color, on her forehead, which is mirrored atop the forehead of her companion, M'Rtyu.
Dressed in her leather armor, gloved and booted, which is hardly fetching or high fashion, she strides forward carrying her possessions in her backpack, with a sense of pride that, had the villagers actually spent some time interacting with her, would know comes from the fact she is in public, openly displaying her prowess as a Summoner.
M'Rtyu walking along her right side, a human sized panther, is clearly a fantastical creature and in some unusual manner, it appear to be more then a normal panther. He appears to wear no items, his midnight black fur, shimmering only the slightest against the torch light, mirrors the hue of Nilofar's, and his eyes, filled with a human intelligence, look straight ahead beneath the exact same rune as Nilofar's, glowing on his forehead in a dark reddish color.
They both walk up and stand on the furthest right side of the assembled young men who have stepped forward and then Nilofar says, "I speak for myself and my companion, M'Rtyu-- we shall venture out and return with this flame for the good of the community." Her voice carries itself strongly and with a tone of authority, perhaps even rehearsed a few times.
M'Rtyu seems to have the slightest of smirks on his features when Nilofar makes her declaration for both of them. It fades away after just a few moments, his attention being kept on the Mayor and his front while he takes up a sitting position to Nilofar's right.
Grum tries hard to not react when the summoner and her panther enters the scene, 'So beautiful and so deadly.' he thinks, but about which one is hard to say. He settles for glancing out the corner of his eye at the pair, looking hard to not look nervous about the presence of the intelligent predator.
He stops once he's abreast of Grobradon and, hooking his thumbs on his belt, states, "I will go." and much, much quieter he says so only his brother can hear "Someone's got to watch your back."
"Wouldn't want you to get bored," A smile, very slight.
The summoner's pet makes him feel on edge, but Grob is still in a good mood as folks announce their willingness to partake in this venture
The sun has not set yet when Romund leaves his house to check the traps at the forrest. When he is back with last night's game he hear wispers inside. Alarmed he enters the hut.
Captain Wisslo is talking to Grimscar. They become deadly silent when the young man approaches. Oh crap, Captain W! He is with Grimscar...and they are TALKING! This cant be good. Ohcrapohcrapohcrap...
Hey Capt. the half orc says downcast. What ever they say I took its a lie. I have not been in town since...
Shut up kid. Grimscar says. You will come with the Captain to the village now. Pick up your stuff.
GRIMSCAR! Are you throwing me out?! Romund yells scared.
No you fool. Shut up. Grimscar says looking annoyed.
Romund, everything is alright. I have something that I need your help with and I would appreciate if you could come with me. the Captain of the guard says trying to make peace.
The two of them walk in silence to the village. Romund does not know what to make of the whole thing. When in town the Captain asks him to wait at the main square. He stayed there by himself as the mob gathered. After the Mayor finished his speech he fells a squeeze in his shoulder and Captain Wisslo shoves him foward.
He stumbles to the middle of the empty space. Looking around the crownd in panic he sees Grimscar at the edge of it. The old half orc nods to him.
Yea. Romund mumbles while following the others embarressed.
Nilofar breaks from her attempt at being focused and determined in appearance, glancing over as the figure of Romund stumbles into the open area along side the current five volunteers.
She blinks once or twice while looking Romund over quickly, apparently surprised at the 'stepping forward', then looks back up at the Mayor.
>>Not exactly-- an eager or excited entry, but that will make six. I wonder who else is of age. How exciting!<<
There's a low growl in the back of Grobradon's throat as he sees Grimscar One day, I'm going to teach Grimscar a lesson.
The mayor is a man of his middle year, with long hair swept back and a luxuriant beard. His waistline is ample and his voice rich and pleasant.
As the final adventurer steps forth, the major's face remains impassive and he coughs lightly to gain attention.
Who amongst you should have the honour of carrying the lantern. He holds aloft a rather plain looking lantern, unlit, as if it were the most prized possession the town has to offer (which of course it probably is).
At this point, six backpacks are placed beside him in a neat pile.
Romund looks at his travel companions waiting to see who is going to volunteer.
Nilofar, while still looking ahead after her brief break from seeing Romund's stumble into the assembled, glances up and down the gathered half-orcs and lone other human, before taking what appears to be a bit of a breath and steps forward.
"I shall carry it." She then approaches the Mayor to take the lantern from him. With a faint smile and a hint of something else in her eyes-- perhaps pride, she collects it with some hint of reverence, stepping back. A quick glance at the backpacks, temptation on her face, then returns to her place in the 'line' of volunteers.
Glancing back at the others with her, she doesn't exactly project her thoughts, but her expressive face might show some of them.
If nothing else, I probably don't need both my hands when getting into trouble-- unlike the rest of us.
Sensing the somewhat seriousness of this ritual before the townsfolk, she continues to keep the lantern visible, while waiting for the next step.
Grobradon sees Nilofar step forward and feels relieved. Feel a bit bad not going for it myself, but my greatblade is not going to be worth much if I try to use it one handed. Even I'm not that strong.
M'Rtyu watches as Nilofar walks forward and takes the role of lantern carrier. His features seem to smirk briefly, then with a quick glance around, he peers to his left and right, attempting to see or hear any villager that might be speaking poorly of Nilofar's boldness.
Then once she's returned to her spot at his side, he'll look up at her silently, before reverting to his somewhat stoic, yet bemused, impression of a panther statue, sitting on it's haunches.
>> Proud moment there, isn't it? << He remains 'silent' after that, waiting for the next step in this ritual as well.
Doc continues to smile widely as the girl retrieves the lantern. With the cane and his satchel, carrying the light as well would have given him a good deal of trouble.
He seems to stop leaning as heavily on his walking cane, standing upright with his chest puffed out. "This'll do it. They'll finally trust me. A doctor ain't nothin' without trust," he mutters to himself, though his chipper demeanor doesn't seem to waver for even a moment. The dwarven doctor turns his gaze to Nilofar, nodding to the girl when she meets his eyes. You've done well, he mouths to her, knowing she likely won't hear him from this distance, over the crowd.
Xavier stands looking over at Nilofar and then up to the mayor. He steps forward and begins ro speak fist to heart.
I believe that Nilofar would be the best to carry the lantern and I pledge to guard the light with ny sword, shield, and life.
Xavier than steps back into line.
I didn't think I would be so nervous.
Once the mayor hands the lantern to Nilofar, he then hands each of you a backpack that contains 5 days’ worth of rations, a small tent, a winter blanket, a full waterskin, and a map that leads from Kassen to the Crypt of the Everflame.
In addition, the following items are spread out among the backpacks, distributed as evenly as possible: 50 feet of hempen rope, a box containing tinder and three tindertwigs, a labeled potion of cure light wounds, three torches, a grappling hook, and a small bottle of local brandy.
Then, as solemn as before, the mayor once again speaks to the townsfolk. I present to you the brave heroes who will follow in Kassen’s footsteps to retrieve the Everflame! Some of them may not return, but I say to you that their sacrifice shall not be forgotten. Go, brave heroes, and do not return until you have the eternal fire. With that, the mayor points to the south, the direction of Kassen’s tomb. The townsfolk begin waving goodbye with cold, solemn looks on most of their faces. Some, it has to be said, look as though they are trying to suppress a laugh.
Well I don't much like that part about not coming back, Savren thinks to himself, but once he has shouldered the pack, he falls in step with the other folks headed to retrieve the flame. His smile shines brightly, even in the face of those who would rather he not return. "We'll be back with the flame in no time!" he calls to the crowd, the tap-tap-tak of his movement sounding rather muted against the cold dirt. No one seems capable of keeping this dwarf down, even in this solemn occasion.
Grobradon takes his backpack up and feeling that they are expected to leave, starts to make his way out of the town for the 'adventure' to start. Once he's far enough away from the crowd, he opens the pack and looks at the map , "You may want to take point on this one brother... I don't think I've ever been as far out in the wild as this map goes."
I believe you are right Grobradon your brother scout would make the perfect point man. I will take the rear to cover thay area. If I may be so bold ti suggest Grobradon second, Romund, Doc, The panther; sorry Ihaven't been told your name, Nilofar, and then myself. That is if it is acceptable to the rest of you.
Xavier pulls the cure light potion from his pack and hangs it on his belt for ease of reach.
Savren nods at the man's suggestion. "Aye, sounds like a plan t' me." He taps his walking cane on the ground once, the resounding tak causing his smile to spread just a bit wider. "They're trustin' in us, and I trust in all o' you," he pauses, looking between the gathered members, "so I hope you'll put yer trust in me!"
Realizing that he has a disadvantage over the others.
I am Xavier Montgomery, cleric of Iomedae, and assistant to Father Praast in the temple. I seem to know a bit of each of you but you may not know me. I hope that we will be able to get to know each other well on this journey.
At that Xavier moves to the back to guard the rear.
When Nilofar stepped forward, so full of excitement, Grum couldn't help but feel a twinge of... competitiveness. But, not the type of make a scene, kept his feelings to himself, as usual. He could throw some jabs at Grob later to distract himself, and smiled to himself at the though.
Hefting the pack, and offering to take the rope, grappling hook, and one of the torches, settles those things into his pack. His competitive spirit is assuaged as his brother asks him to take point, "I'd be happy to, we shouldn't keep the eternal fire waiting." Once everyone has signaled their readiness and the marching order established he squares his shoulder to the south and starts the journey. Didn't expect such organization from this lot, well maybe from Grob. Glad I didn't get stuck with a bunch of slouches. the ranger thinks to himself, for while he's seen most of these people many times, he's never worked with most of them in a group. He also has an inflated sense of his own abilities, compared to others.
He starts moving his long legs at a brisk pace, peering back discreetly from time to time, to see who is keeping up and the best pace for the group. It doesn't take long to settle into a steady pace, only slightly slower than he'd be moving on his own, and his grudging respect for the others grows just a little bit more. His eyes are on the path, even as his mind is moving ahead, remembering the path and it's dangers so as to lead the others the fastest and safest route possible. He checks his bow on his shoulder, the flail at his hip, brushes his fingers lightly over the feathers of his arrows, making sure all is in place, the motions nearly as automatic as breathing.
He feels some pressure to introduce himself after Xavier does, "I suspect you each know me, but I'm Grumadon, Ranger and Guide. Let us make this a safe and swift journey."
... not return. I wish. Pompous a$&!
Romund examines the backpack in front of him unsure what to do. He already have most of the gear but does not want to discard such valuable gift. In the end he just tuck everything inside his on backpack and resign himself to carry the extra weight.
After following the others until they stop, the lumberjack silently looks at the map over Grob's shoulder. When the group decide the marching order he just falls in his assigned place ready to move but upon hearing people's speeches the kid feels that something should be said.
I am Romund. the half orc says while looking to the floor before starting to walk again.
Savren pats Romund on the back. "Nice t' meetcha, lad. Doctor Savren Redforge at yer service. You can jus' call me "Doc," though," the dwarven man smiles at the half-orc youth.
" I think I've seen most of you around, but in case... name's Grobradon." He looks surprised and a bit pleased, "Looks like we orc bloods have a good showing here."
For the most part, while the lantern was grasped in her hands, Nilofar seemed to be in a slight dreamy mindset, following along with the others as they listened to the end of the Mayor's ritual talk before heading out.
She didn't really say much at the dealing and sorting of the provided gear, though she clearly seemed to be paying attention briefly and while walking out of town with the other five companions, her panther companion silently padding along at her side as the identical runes burned with their dark reddish hue scant distance on both their faces.
Once they started the introductions, Nilofar listened and then finally says after Grobradon, "I am called Nilofar Varissan, or call me Nilo-- seeing as we are apparently willing to use nicknames." She nods at each fellow with a warm smile.
"I suppose we may or may not know one another-- perhaps we should share, to help with our inexperience together, as we journey out into the wild. Our professions, if any, which might help. I must profess I am not the most well learned, this village I grew up in was limited compared to some of the rumors I've heard of large cities, but I've some skill in the arcane matters as you no doubt can tell. I'm an arcane caster, a Summoner, by profession. My mother predicted this, while in her womb, when she brought me here."
>> Wow, am I blathering here, or ... where is this excitement coming from? Act calm, Nilo, calm... <<
She motions to her side, keeping the pace and moving into the middle of their group on whatever trail or road they were walking, near Doc, saying, "The panther creature is my ... well, he's the primary focus of my arcane magics, called M'Rtyu." She motions over towards the panther, who simply nods once.
"First and foremost, let me caution you all, he is not an animal of the forest, or wilderness-- merely in the shape of such, and is capable of speech and thought, being of another plane of existence." That being said, she looks around to see if that sinks in.
M'Rtyu walks along Nilofar's side, keeping pace with her, casually striding along like any large predatory feline would, his eyes peering around as if to spot movement in the trees or bush. He doesn't speak though, apparently remaining quiet even after the reveal by Nilofar.
With supreme effort Romund mumbles a few more words.
I dwell in the forrest with Grimscar. He have a hut. We cut trees for a living.
He then gives Nilo a sideways look and tries to hide a small smile.
"First and foremost, let me caution you all, he is not an animal of the forest, or wilderness-- merely in the shape of such, and is capable of speech and thought, being of another plane of existence." That being said, she looks around to see if that sinks in.
"Well, that's creepy." Grob states matter of factly "Glad he's on our side I guess."
With supreme effort Romund mumbles a few more words.
I dwell in the forrest with Grimscar. He have a hut. We cut trees for a living.
He then gives Nilo a sideways look and tries to hide a small smile.
"Why do you stay with Grimscar? the guy's a bully and a jerk."
Nilofar looks a bit shocked at Grob's statement, and seems to think on something, while both she and M'Rtyu seem to have a silent back and forth on the topic-- M'Rtyu gives her a final shrug as the last indication of his part of the 'chat'.
>> Creepy? By the Great Beyond, no no.. I was, gah. Must of been something I said-- I'm over thinking this, honestly. <<
She walks along quietly and hears what Grobradon says to Romund, giving a look over as well, part of her mind lost in thoughts of what to say next.
Eventually she ends up with a question, "Who's Grimscar? I'm not too familiar with anyone named that-- sounds mean."
Her eyes peer around at the gathered while they walk along, indicating some curiosity, as well as thoughts left unsaid.
>> I wonder if we should define our roles in this adventure.. or just continue walking along out in the woods. To think, 3 half-orcs, a dwarf and only me and another human, what an odd combination. Are we all orphans too? Hmmm. <<
She just then blurts out, "Oh! Just how long are we going to be away from town?" The question seems to be put out there to no one in particular.
Mean... smilling Yea, Grimscar can be mean.
After a pause.
He took care of me when I was a kid. After mom...died.
Romund shrugs his shoulders
We live together in the woods.
The half orc tries to remeber the distances in the map and how long it would take to travel them.
Just two hours outside of Kassen, the path narrows through the raking claws of the trees, now bereft of their leaves, which crunch loudly underfoot. Up ahead, a fallen tree trunk blocks the path.
Suddenly a trio of snarling humanoids leap up from behind the log, all greenish skin and fearsome tusks, bellowing vulgar challenges. Orcs! Each is in well-worn leather armour and carrying a short-sword.
Xavier tries to recall those that left last year and how long their travel took to complete.
If I remember correctly two days there two days back and a couple days there. so just abou... what the
Xaviers words are quickly cut off as three Orcs show themselves on the trail.
must act swiftly but with caution here
Xavier pulls out his longsword and shield and prepares himself for any advance.
Domain - Shield of Faith
0 - guidance, resistance, spark
1 - bless, doom
Grobradon is still musing over whether a guy like Grimscar could actually have done something decent or not when the orcs appear.
He draws his greatsword, moving besides his brother at point, and snarls at them
Grum listens to the chatting of the others, several comments coming to mind but debates with himself so long about saying something, eventually the conversation moves on. Sighing inwardly, he trudges on, figuring another chance will come soon enough.
Grum draws his weapon and attacks, a low growl sounding in the back of his throat. He draws on bead on the closest Orc.
"Who your Chieftain be!? We shall inform him of your death!"
Romund draws his axe and moves to the other side of Grum.
Savren's smile turns into a slightly incredulous smirk when the orcs appear. Far from surprised, the dwarf seems almost amused. "Figured it wouldn' be 'at easy!" he says as he sheathes his cane in his belt, then raises his crossbow to threaten the orcs. "A'right ya greenskins, ya decided t' mess with the wrong travelers!" he shouts, before turning to his three half-orc compatriots, "No offense intended, me friends!" he apologizes while smiling.
Walking along with the others, Nilofar listens but seems to slip into silence during the main trek, lost to her thoughts.
Somewhat surprised at the sudden appearance of the three fearsome orcs, she glances at the fellows with her and reacts in kind.
She stops moving, draws her sickle from her belt and stands ready to slash one if any comes near.
The moment the three humanoids spring out of the nearby fallen log, M'Rtyu gives off an almost 'joyful' sound of pleasure, though it is a bit light, "Fun, fun..." is made out.
With that being said...
...he waits for the actions of the others, trying to perceive if there are more than just these three orcs ahead, or hidden to the sides as well.
Romund swings his axe but misses Orc 1 by a few inches. Xavier is next to react and he swings his longsword clumsily, so much so it is difficult to know which Orc he was among at.
Grob has been waiting his moment and expertly wielding his great sword, he swings as Orc 1 and almost decapitates it. Its body crumples in a heap.
Orc 3 waves its sword at Nilofar but not close enough to do any damage. Orc 2 takes a swings at Doc but the stroke clears his head by a good foot. Had he been taller, he would now be shorter!
Doc manages to remain calm and stows his cane and then readies his crossbow.
In reaction to Orc 3's attack on Nilofar, M'Rtyu lashes out, his teeth sinking into the Orc's arm, almost severing it.
Nilofar takes a swipe at the same Orc but misses as it thrashes around in obvious pain.
Finally Grum wields his flail and brings it down onto Orc 2's head, the skull cracking as the weapon creates a large indent. The Orc falls to the ground.
once again the good cleric looks as if he barely knows how to hold a sword. But it looks as if he just may have hit the Orc.
Romund moves to flank the last enemy and attack with a strong swing of his axe.
Romund's mighty axe smashes into the remaining Orc and it falls towards the ground. Before it makes contact with the earth, it - and the other two creatures - simply vanish in front of your eyes. There is no trace of the skirmish other than your own footprints.