Taisper leaves Zander and Gregary alone and turns back to Verik and Jemini. "What I wonder, though, is if the bounds of this old empire somehow go around these lands, or if maybe if we can find more of these towers, we can eliminate some loci of evil that are lending strength and power to some of the various factions making things tough on us. Maybe not that...faeirie menagerie we saw in the mountains back before Stagfall, those things from the First World, maybe not things like that, but the bugbears, these trolls. I wonder if the towers aren't doing something to help them, or make them bolder than they might normall be. I mean, I hope they're not, but it feels like we oughta be able to do something."
He shrugs and gives an affably self-deprecating smile. "Or, just as likely, I'm just talkin'."
The storm seems to linger over the island for days on end, pelting them with intermittent rain and thunder. Every time that it seems to have passed long enough to get out of the tower and back to the shore, another part of the storm appears on the horizon to ward them off. With so many people loaded in their druidic raft, it will take even longer to make it to shore. Going out on the water with the storm would be suicidal.
So they wait.
Verik provides a makeshift divine ward to dampen the negative energy trapped in the tower, utilizing Jemini's own divine energy to bolster his own. They lack the materials for a true circle against evil, but this does the trick for the time being. The feeling of dread of the place fades to a mere unsettled feeling the background. The group is capable of sleeping more comfortably without horrific dreams plaguing them, though the storm still doesn't help.
Zander and Taisper take advantage of a temporary break in the rain to practice bowmanship together. Zander spends the better part of his time stuck in the tower to increase the tension on the bow taken from the harpy, making it more difficult to pull but capable of producing more force. He gives Taisper his previous bow and helps show him more tips and tricks to shooting accurately.
Nikolai and Berrin go out in the rain together, tired of simply sitting around. They walk around the island, seemingly enjoying the raging storm, though they speak little to each other. The island is small, taking very little time to fully explore. They find the remains of a small sloop, likely a pirate ship from deeper in the River Kingdoms, dashed upon the rocks. They find a chest in its small hold, which they bring back to the tower together. One on each side, they carry the fairly heavy load onto the stone floor of the tower and smash open its lock. Inside, a veritable treasure trove sits. The first thing they find inside are hundreds, if not thousands, of gold pieces from all over the River Kingdoms and Brevoy. The coins from Brevoy are at least twenty years old, emblazoned with the visage of Pyotr Rogarvia, the last king of House Rogarvia to sit upon the Dragonscale Throne. In addition to the gold, they find a few dozen quality gems (mostly sapphires and rubies, with a few emeralds and pearls thrown in) of various sizes and more than a few pieces of jewelry. This is more than enough to confirm that this was a pirate ship's treasure. Further in, they find multiple items wrapped in cloth - valuable magically enchanted items - a ring of twisted gold and silver, a belt with a prominent buckle showing Gorum's helm, a dark gray homespun cloak, and a crimson sash bound by an eagle on the shoulder. After discerning their magical enhancements, the group divvies up their findings.
The storm breaks in the night and does not return. When day breaks, there is no storm on the horizon for the first day in nearly a week. They take advantage and set sail on the raft back to their horses and Jabber. The little kobold is overjoyed to see them, having waited faithfully with the horses through the storm. They load their rescued prisoners onto horseback and divide the heavy load of the gold amidst the horses. The horses are forced to break often for water as they head north back to Sanctuary. They camp on the peninsula between the two lakes for the night.
After crossing over the ford that they fought the hydra at a week before, they are met by a messenger from Sanctuary. The guardsman explains what has just happened back in the city - the presence of the doppelganger Malgorzata and the death of Corwin. He bids them to move quickly and ride north as quickly as possible. The group does as he asks, trying their hardest to get back to Sanctuary as quickly as they can.
They arrive late in the night after a full day of hard riding. They are greeted at the gate of the city (though the walls could hardly be called that) by the members of the Guard. A loud trumpet blow heralds them, echoing through a city that seems even quieter than usual. The dawn has yet to break over the city, but the presence of the Founders is something that gives the citizens ample hope.
Verik awakens early before dawn, his mind alert and his eyes looking around the dark confines of the tower that has been their shelter for five days now. He sees the traced lines of the consecration ward that he and Jemini sorted out three days ago, using melted silver coins to create the crude focus seal - Verik still marvels that they both were able to improvise it. To his left near the wall lie the carefully counted and measured treasure that joyfully took Verik the better part of yesterday to count, added to the spoils claimed from the harpies those days prior.
Verik went to sleep nearly content last night after painstakingly counting coins, appraising gems, discerning magical auras, explaining his findings to any whom would listen, and finally cataloging it all on one of his last spare sheets of dry parchment. Last night his dreams touched upon fanciful notions of castle vaults to hold such treasure, which led him to dream of a Vault of a very different kind, one that he only fully realized in a vision with Taisper over a year ago.
Verik felt touched from his dreams somehow, and silently moved off out of the tower towards the water for morning dedications, smiling at the fact that he could see the faint difference in the sky where the sun would rise after so many days of clouds and rain. A nearly perfect morning...praise to you Master for the gift of enjoying such a simple thing as a sunrise, to understand the blessed value of society and invention when one does without its comforts for a time. I shall not forget that it must not be taken for granted." He kneels after placing his symbol, belt of keys and prayer book before him in the accustomed manner and begins his ceremony of dedication.
Some time later just after the sun has risen in the sky, Verik quickly walks to find Taisper, waiting only to not interrupt his cousin's own dedications, but barely able to contain his excitement. Taisper Taisper! Glory to you this dawn, and glory to the Master! A day of worth and of reward after all that we have been through! Come! You must see what the Master has granted me...I wanted you to be the first...the Blessing of Cobblehoof!"
Having not yet cleaned up, Taisper is shirtless and sweaty from morning exercises, his own devotions to the Master taking a somewhat different vector than Verik's. He laughs when Verik comes rushing up, but he is not laughing at his cousin, he is laughing with relief and joy to see him so happy.
"Glory to the Master, cousin, on this golden morning. What's got you so keyed up? I would indeed love to see whatever it is..." Grabbing a towel, he follows Verik. "Where is this reward? Why do you think it's specifically associated with Cobblehoof?"
Getting out in the rain was a relief. Sitting pent up in the tower among the mindless victims and the chattering historians were draining on Berrin's will, he needed to be up and doing something. His heart went out to the victims, Berrin couldn't hope to understand what they'd been through, but he couldn't help but wonder if they wouldn't be better off dead and as far as the now-deceased cyclops empire went Berrin just wanted to get rid of the lingering remnants of the dream.
So getting out in the rain was a relief.
The silence between him and Nikolai was a relief as well. Walking the shore and poking their noses into every nook and cranny, every ruined building and overgrown bush in relative silence served Berrin just fine. There was no need for pointless discussions, they were just scouting and exploring, Berrin had enough on his mind.
Walking the shore Berrin stops and stares over to the mainland. Valnyr was there, just across the waters, waiting. Berrin couldn't say just how he knew, he just knew.
Finding the sloop and the chest brings a grin to Berrin's face, the walk bore fruit. Carrying the heavy chest back Berrin is giddy with excitement and gives out a small 'woop!' when the lock is broken to reveal the contents, examening every item Berrin tries them on, seeming to take a special interest in the crimson sash with the eagle clasp, thinking it makes him look dashing, and the coins. Rolling over one of the coins he recognizes as Brevic he flips one over to Nikolai.
"Isn't that your daddy? Grandaddy maybe?" he remarks in good humor.
Overjoyed at the storm breaking Berrin energetically helps to break camp and pack everything and everyone onto the boat and hustling to shore, on the way back he pauses and looks back at the retreating island, wondering about it's potential.
"We should send a garrison out here along with the acolytes." he remarks. "The islands position is perfect to control and defend this part of the river. And there's no sense in wasting such a strong structure, I'm sure it ca be retrofitted rather easily."
Berrin seems to have found a new comfort in riding Valnyr, prancing back and forth along the marching line, moving forward to scout and behind as well with the occasional dash into the bush. A change can be noted in Valnyr as well, a bounce in his step, more frequent shaking of his mane, neighing more frequently. All-in-all both rider and horse seem more energetic despite the heavy load Valnyr has to carry.
Meeting the messenger at the ford mars Berrin's humor, the new are dire indeed. A friend, dead. The city in danger. Berrin struggles with the want to hurry home and the need to help their charges.
Arriving at the gates Berrin, though tired from the hard riding, immediately orders the guards to take over the charges, including Gregory, and demands a report.
Though the soldier might be relieved to see the founders Berrin's stern face nevertheless puts the sergeant to attention as he quickly describes the past days events as best he knows them.
Berrin's face turns darker with the sergeants telling and when he finishes Berrin jumps atop Valnyr and spurs the tired horse on. "To the castle! Quickly!"
Storming into the castle Berrin glares at the guards who demands a password of him, growling at them to get out of his way and makes his way to the chamber where Akiros is.
Taisper follows wordlessly behind Berrin as the big warrior heads up to Akiros' location. The inquisitor drops back a little bit, speaks a phrase in celestial, and vanishes. Now hidden from normal sight, he continues on, walking past the guards, who don't even know he's there.
Verik almost looks boyish as he smiles as Taisper and replies, "Oh you shall see my dear cousin, and judge that for yourself! I daresay you could have guessed it already but for the fact that it is a rare talent amongst our own, a gift to those of our kind that seek to wander the many places of the world in order to spread commerce and civilization."
He chats excitedly as they move towards the edge of the lake shore. "The gifts of the Master are many and varied, and each according to the disposition and calling of the devoted - why I once saw back in Absalom a remarkable fellow who showed great promise as a crafter of metal and dweomers in the service of the Master, well he could heat the very metal of weapons and armor through prayer alone, having dominion over those crafted works of the Vault. I have seen others display the great speed-of-foot in battle that I have noticed you have shown upon occasion! As for me, well I have Venerable Master Knesh to thank for opening my eyes to this road, else my "special talents" would probably be in cataloging books of law at the Atheneum or some such...not that it is unworthy mind you for our cause, but not what I would have chosen...ah here we are!"
Verik turns to face Taisper with his back to the lake, extending out his hands to clap and rub them together vigorously, and then stretching them to the sky as if to perform some of his cousin's stretching routines. "I think I could even offer this to you my dear cousin with time and training, but for now I shall take the risk to myself, as I feel it will not last long and could have unintended consequences. Now let us see..."
He closes his eyes and utters a prayer to Abadar and to Cobblehoof, exalting the great winged messenger of the Master and asking for his guidance and aid. A brief golden shimmering surrounds Verik and for a brief moment it appears that the cleric has a construct of golden wings spreading out behind him, though it fades almost immediately. At that moment Verik opens his eyes, bends his knees and jumps as high as he can into the air. Though the jump is somewhat ungainly, he somehow propels himself upward by force of divine will, arching and twisting around to fly over the lake's edge, fighting the urge to swing his arms or legs as he attempts to keep an upwardly direction. Higher and higher he climbs out over the lake about two-hundred feet away and sixty feet high, before he attempts a slow arcing turn with one arm extended. After about a minute of circling he seems to have grasped the rudimentary concept to not plunge himself into a suicidal dive or lose momentum, and with more confidence he heads back towards Taisper on the shore, streaking by him in exultation. "Do you see now cousin? Glory glory to the Master! Is this not simply astounding? Haha!"
In the next couple of minutes he makes several more arcing turns in succession as he focuses on getting more precise with his movement and speed, babbling almost absentmindedly as he does so. "I cannot wait for you to try this Taisper! It is quite liberating, though keeping one's speed is essential it seems to climbing or circling properly. Think of the possibilities in our endeavors - why scouting could be most effective simply by moving up high enough to see for miles around! Your messaging prayer would be essential though I think, because it is very hard to hear up here with the wind in my ears and if I slow down too much I lose height. Ha if only Kavken could see me now I am sure he'd eat his crumpled hat in envy! You see Taisper that swamp-loving Gozran can profess his log-tricks all he wants, but he neither owns the wind nor the skies! I wonder what the castle would look like from above...or Sanctuary for that matter? Yes when we return back to town we must try this to see, although it would be imprudent for the populace to know of this skill...uhh...yes as I was saying maybe I can disguise myself or do it in the night...I...uhh...wait what is happening?"
Suddenly Verik seems to loose speed and maneuverability, and finds himself about fifty feet above the lake and twenty feet offshore, slowly sinking in the sky like a leaf falling from a high tree branch. He thrusts his hips out several times and points towards shore, shouting, "MOVE! Move THAT way blast you!" Nothing seems to change however, and Verik looks below him at the water's surface getting closer and closer. "Ahh..." With his eyes goggling and his mouth open he tries to flail his arms and legs as if jogging in place, but to no avail. With a gentle but unceremonious splash he sinks into the water up to his armpits, his morning prayer robes floating up around him.
"Well...I suppose I deserved that somewhat." he finally professes to Taisper.
Jemini spends the first few days primarily mother-hen'ing over her most recent charges. She does give Verik enough time to help settle the lingering menace of the place - but most of the time she's looking after the previously enthralled, quietly praying (or brooding as Berrin and Nikolai may judge it).
The fresh and clear dawn draws the first big smile from Jemini in a while - the sun a sure sign of Sarenrae herself. A sign to make forward once more!
Which makes the revelations of the next day all the more urgent. Jemini is first to insist on immediate and hasted return.
Jemini's first order of business, on her return, is to re-explore the city. She wants to feel the lay of the land and its people - to understand their thoughts and their needs, so shortly after the massive upheaval.
"Yes Berrin, we should indeed send out my acolytes to this ancient and evil forsaken tower to cleanse it, with a garrison of Akiros's soldiers and a few of Zander's scouts then?"
Verik looks rather imperiously at Berrin with his eyebrows raised, as if to challenge his edict over implied authorities. At the last moment though his mouth breaks into a broad grin. Verik, it seems, is in very good spirits today.
"Truly, your idea to cleanse and claim the Tower of the Candlemere is a sound one - something we must do if we are going to have our trade route to Mivon one day. However, Thomas and my other acolytes are not learned enough to cast a proper Ritual of Consecration, so I will have to return and see to it myself." He motions southwards to the waters and the island behind them. "I imagine we will be returning this way soon Berrin, if we are to deal with this troll chieftain and the lizardmen, so perhaps two needs can be accomplished with a bit of planning upon our next outing. I should like to see how swiftly a small force of ours can come down the Tuskwater to Candlemere and the island."
Verik looks around at the others and raises his clears his throat, speaking a bit grandly for all of them to hear. "In commemoration of finally leaving this lake behind us, I have a surprise for the Founders if we can stop and rest our shoulders and arms a moment." He puts his left hand around his holy symbol, and reaches out with his right hand to the others. "Now who will touch my hand and receive a most special boon that has been imparted to me this day? Come come, I will stay in the boat with Gregary and these others if you have the temerity to trust me. Anyone?"
Verik smiles at each of you reassuringly who touch his hand or arm, and then utters a prayer to sacred Abadar for the aid to overcome the difficult travels of water, so that your last "steps" from the lake can be made with great progress. Upon the conclusion of his prayer, his eyes twinkle as he takes on a fake scowl and waves his hand saying "Now get out of the boat. Go on! Throw a land-lover's leg over and stand as if you were on shore already! Just have a care to not pitch the boat for the rest of us, and you have at most the span of a full candle not quite burning down completely."
Berrin just shakes his head at the offer of Verik's blessing, nudging Taisper in the ribs he leans over and whispers conspiratorially, "I saw him splash into the waters this morning, no way he's pulling this one on me!" Then he sets his jaw and folds his arms, staring defiantly at Verik.
His stare of defiance turned into disbelief and then open amazement as he watched the ones who accepted his blessing walk on water. Edging over to Verik after watching the others have fun he nudges him in the ribs. "Hey umm... Can I still go?" he almost pleads.
Jemini first giggles quietly at Berrin's acknowledgment of Verik's water-logged emergence at the camp, then bursts out laughing outright at Berrin's turn around. She blushes and holds one hand before her mouth as she realizes her mirth got away from her.
Berrin shoots Jemini a wide grin and shrugs before turning back to Verik and waiting expectantly for his reply.
[Ooc]Is Sarah gonna leave Akiros hangin'?? ; ) [\ooc]
Verik stares back at Berrin now with a real scowl on his face, slowly shaking his head back and forth. Without saying anything to him, he turns to Jemini. "Do you see now what I have had to contend with these many months? All my best efforts to serve this 'Steward of the Realm' have been met with mockery and distrust, when I have only ever had his best interests in mind."
Turning back to Berrin he adds sarcastically, "Alas Berrin, my prayers to the Agents of the First Vault have already been answered and I cannot simply "do it again" this day. But fret not, for you can rejoice and partake of my final new gift tonight when we camp - a divinely summoned meal in the form of a vegetable broth that will be highly nourishing for all. Sadly, you may find it lacking in some ingredients you usually find essential to your survival," he adds with an overacted display of false regret. "Those would be things such as large haunches of unknown meat, an overabundance of salt and other gut-wrenching spices...ale, whiskey, that sort of thing."
Berrin is quite taken aback by Verik's outburst, managing a small, drawn out "Hey!?!? and adopting a hard scowl. Hesitating a moment he turns his back on Verik and resumes his place by the oar, grumbling to himself, flustered. "Not my fault you bloody idiots made me steward! Didn't even want the bloody job. Not my idea. But, oh no! 'That's a brilliant idea Berrin! You'll make an excellent steward Berrin! I'm sure you'll do a fine job Berrin!' Bloody, stupid, fracking...." Growing redder in the face with every passing grumble he finally points a finger at Verik and shouts a little louder than he intended over the boat.
Realizing his voice was louder than he intended he looks embarrassed at the assembly on-board the boat and mutters. "Sorry!" without any heart and resumes paddling.
Verik's eyes are wide for a moment as he endures Berrin's sour retort, and then pointedly looks skyward almost as if pleading for guidance before responding. "Cogs and Keys Berrin! I was jesting...for the most part anyhow...and I can't rightly get under your armor with a joke about your battle skills, raw strength or the admiration of the people now can I? Now don't you go starting all that swallop up again about you being a sodden Steward, because you were quite proficient at it when you wanted to and actually paid attention at Council - dare I say that you inherently have a much keener mind for strategy and the moves of politics than I do!"
"So... So you were just joking?" Berrin asks, not sure if he believes Verik.
"Aww, hells Verik. Come 'ere!" Lurching forward Berrin moves forward in the boat to bury Verik in a hug, squeezing him tight. "You know I value you man. You'r my friend. A companion and I value your input. Hell's sometimes I feel like I'm just a puppet on strings for you guys in the council, acting the front in situations way over my head. I wouldn't rile you if I didn't like you! Blast it man, I've got powerful people all over these lands wanting my head on a spike 'cause I just did what I thought you guys would want. These are some scary people man, making Ol' Staggy look like a mewling pup, in comparison you know, people with armies and assassins at their beck and call."
"So what if people like me? They like you too." he says emphatically, gabbing the cleric by the shoulders and staring him in the eyes. "Hell's man! Why do you even care if they like you or not? You survived two years in these lands with us. Two years when this thing was set up to fail from the start! They've got nothing on you! Your a founder of Newhaven, the brightest hope for a good, new life for miles and miles. We're a beacon of hope surrounded by hostile nations and nature alike with threats like Chorol the fracking Conqueror and evil Fey Queens loomin' over us."
"And so what if I get all the girls? I see now you had the right of it, holding out for the right one..." he says with a nod to Jemini. "After I met Emma I can see that what I was doing was hollow at best, a fling here and a fling there, sure it was fun and exiting but I can see now. I can see the value of wanting to keep someone safe, of seeking the intimate comforts of a particular someone."
"So you don't need to feel like you need to prove anything Verik, you'r just perfect the way you are man. You my brother and I'd lay down my life for you man, for any of you. Ok?"
"How very...(oof)...appreciative I am...(gasp)...of your...sense of value!" Verik pats the big man awkwardly on the shoulder as his face reddens deeply during the man's crushing hug, but whether due to embarrassment or an inability to breathe it is hard to tell...
...until Berrin nods to Jemini in his inspired conversation a moment later. At that point Verik's eyes nearly seem to pop from his head and he vigorously shakes his head as he holds up his hands, but Berrin doesn't seem to notice as he continues on unabated. Somewhere around the words "intimate comforts" Verik involuntarily looks at Jemini and then begins to cough, his face turning a lovely shade of crimson tinged with purple, as it is all he can do to not choke on his own pitiful attempt to take in air.
"I...ahhhhhhhhh...." Looking at Berrin who appears to be expecting an answer to his last question, he simply nods vigorously and clumsily clasps the man on the shoulder three times in succession, still trying to suck in air and clear his throat, which seems to take years to manage. Verik tilts his head and absolutely does not look at Jemini while he tries to regain the tiniest amount of composure.
"Yes well, um, well yes I know that my friend, and you have the right of it. There truly is why you are the Hero of Stagfall to the people...why the people love you and would follow you where they would balk at another. That is a rare thing."
Finally able to smooth out his breath and no longer appear like the color of a large welt from a bee-sting, he manages a small smile. "I am glad we understand and share this bond of fellowship. Perhaps, however, we should still work on fostering a modicum of tact and omission of...ahh...well we'll talk about it later."
Verik sits tending to the campfire, just having finished his duties of tending to the mute and listless ex-captives with a carefully prepared and measured allotment of “Abadarian Stew” () and an equally prepared amount of water (), something he has managed since the storm’s end with the blessing of Abadar. He looks over at them briefly, huddled together in the darkness, a couple looking a bit less skin-and-bones from the treatments and regimens that both he and Jemini have administered. He knows, however, that the various insanities that grip their shattered minds will not be cured with summoned food and purified water. Verik sighs and looks back to the fire, poking at it with a stick. Perhaps time will help one of them but probably not…perhaps one or more has family in Newhaven that can spark familiarity and hope of a cure. Perhaps one day I may have the wisdom and trust by the Master to cure their afflictions directly, but I dare not presume such things, else I’d be talking next about how to bring back Corwin in my corrupt hubris, no better than Vinodragov. Corwin…
He had been lost in thought for the remainder of the evening before they had set camp, having crossed the ford and met one of the Newhaven militia who had come searching for them. A day after they had come so far to shake off the gloom of their predicament at the Tower of Candlemere, the morning so full of promise. Verik wondered how many had died and suffered in the reported riots after Corwin’s death – still the circumstances surrounding it as well as Akiros and Tandlara coming across some twisted “cult” raised many more questions than answers. Where was Jhod in all of this? The guard had said he “left” north to the old trading post where Oleg and Svetlana had gone, and that made no sense at all if Verik had any sense of the man he called his stalwart friend whom he had fought with at Stagfall. How much destruction of property and of progress must they now strive to rebuild?
That’s why these lands have been forsaken, or have I not been paying attention to the accounts from that book I bought from Restov last year, about the failed attempts too numerous to count? Berrin surmised as much on the boat yesterday - if anything we should be asking why we have not had a spell of disaster before now! Fool. For all of our efforts this may still be a castle of sand against the inevitable tide if we are not smarter and better than our predecessors…never forget where you are Jarrow…you just saw yet another taste of it on the island. Now order your mind, for the test of mettle begins yet again…
He sighs heavily, looking over to Berrin who paces about near Valnyr, the great steed looking nearly as impatient as he to ride off into the darkness, the thought of which seemed etched upon the warrior’s face. Verik stands and calls Jabber over to tend to the fire, then walks over to Berrin after gathering a bit of bland but nourishing soup in a makeshift bowl, certain the man had not remembered to eat in his worry and haste. He offers the bowl to Berrin, stating dryly, ”It will do you no good to weaken yourself before we get there on the ‘morrow, and pushing more tonight will just guarantee a horse breaks a leg and possibly one of our own necks for the effort. Here.”
After a moment he adds quietly, ”Berrin, I would speak with you privately on a matter of importance, and we may not have a chance tomorrow before we reach Sanctuary.”
The news were tearing at Berrin who paced around in agitation near Valnyr, the horse seemed to reflect Berrin's mood, tossing it's head, neighing and nudging Berrin with it's muzzle, as if urging him to mount up and ride on.
Berrin was just about to do exactly that when his train of thought is interrupted by Verik. Turning to the cleric he sucks in his breath and stares at him, looking to be about to refuse the offered broth he sags as he lets out his breath and mutters an "Ok" and accepts the broth.
"Whats on you mind Verik?" he asks cautiously, looking around camp to see if anyone is listening.
Akiros stares at his beautiful Sarah, the only woman he ever loved. Memories, one after another, flash through his mind as the hope that they could be together again swells in his heart. He holds her hand with tender care, still not wholly believing this to be anything but a dream. She whispers softly and gently to him, "It is all as it must be, my love. Once you do what must be done, we can be together..."
Berrin rushes into the castle, bypassing the guards completely with Taisper following behind him invisibly. His haste leaves the others behind as Jemini starts asking for details about what happened the previous few days. He takes the stairs two at a time after passing through the empty Founder's Hall. He heads to find Akiros, as Corwin's death and Tandlara's illness mean that he and Kesten are the only Founders left in the city. Akiros's quarters are on the second floor - in fact, the same room that had been his when this was still the Stag Lord's wooden fort. Berrin passes his own room, stopping briefly to look for Esmerelda but finding the room cold and empty.
As Berrin (and Taisper, silently and invisibly following) rounds the corner through the torch-lit hallway, he sees a member of the City Guard slumped against the wall. His spear lays on the floor a few feet away, out of the man's reach. Berrin can tell instantly that the soldier is dead; he's seen it enough times to be able to tell with a glance if a wounded man clings to life. The slain guard's hands clutch lifelessly at his throat, barely covering a hole torn through the skin as blood still spills slowly out. His fingers sizzle as something - acid, he'd wager - eats away at them.
Berrin hits the door with all the strength that he can muster, announcing himself with all his usual subtlety. He draws his sword as the splintered door settles and takes a few steps in. Tandlara lays motionless - and breathing - in a small bed in the corner of the room. Akiros sits on the side of his own bed, wearing no armor and apparently injured and feverish. Standing before him and holding his hand is a woman that Berrin's never seen before with flowing black hair. She murmurs something to Akiros, but all Berrin focuses on is the dagger in her hand.
With Sarah before him, Akiros is rushed back in his memory to that ill-fated night years ago when Matthias had burst into his room in a rage. Sarah was there that night as well, caught in his embrace when her husband found them. Akiros rises to his feet, cursing the gods for forcing this memory on him again. Is this a dream or a nightmare, or something far worse? Had the ghosts of his past finally caught up to him? Matthias wears Berrin's face - or is it the shapeshifter? Berrin and the others were off in the wilderness, and his messenger wouldn't have been able to find them yet. Wild, almost frenzied with fear and hope and rage and sorrow, Akiros has his sword in hand in a flash and faces Berrin with it. Sarah gasps and whirls around, stifling a scream. "Please, Akiros, they've come for me! I can't go back without you, your son needs you!"
Taisper has no idea what is going on here. "Akiros?" Having received word of the threat of the shape changer he is not sure he can trust what his eyes see. Stepping forward, he begins to speak to the woman and to Akiros, assuming that one or both of them is not what they seem to be, and uses newly granted magic, magic based on his power with words of castigation and judgment. The holy power of the Master suddenly manifests as a blinding golden beam that renders Taisper visible to all, and causes his aura to swell with power, that he may rend his foes for the glory of the Vault, of the Lawgiver.
"Malgozorta! Demon, I name you! Foul beast and usurper, slinker-in-shadow and enemy of civilization! Wherever you are in this room, undo your foul magics and feel the wrath of Law, of the might of civilization and order! Burn, burn I say to you! I judge you and cast you low before my power!"
Taisper drops the vest from his breastplate, revealing the holy symbol of Abadar emblazoned there, imprinted with symbols of divine power, his shield, likewise. A beacon of order and divine wrath, Taisper focuses his judgment and hate on any foes present. Severely intimidated, the woman Sarah cowers and wretches in pain as her flesh burns under the focus of the blazing light shining off the young inquisitor.
Turning his golden eyes to the feverish Akiros, Taisper confronts the man; "Akiros! Come to your senses, man, this is not a woman, this is a beast! An evil thing come to seduce and destroy you! Get your wits about you! Look how she burns under the might of Abadar while you are unharmed! What other proof could you possibly need?"
Taisper speaks with absolute certainty and clarity. His foe is marked, betrayed by her own burnt flesh. let's see you shape change your way out of this you pig you filth i take a tribute i know your eyes you
Verik puts up a hand to Berrin as if he is expecting a dismissal. "Now don't ignore this as me blathering on about meaningless details, because I am NOT talking about trivial points of order. You may have to decide on executions of the wicked who have perpetrated acts of violence against the innocent, or raise an immediate tax for repairs to the damage, or a levy to bring in more men to patrol the streets, or whatever else is necessary to restore order. You cannot shirk this, not now. Even if you wanted to install Jemini as leader...or whatever the hells we call it...as your first order of business I would back you fully, but with Corwin dead and the others gone from town we do not have a quorum to call the vote. So you are going to have to be as hard as needs be on this point, no matter who is offended, until we have things back in hand. Do you see?"
With a final sigh and a brief look back to the others, he says, "I may find I have to pursue issues that will be very unpopular and uncomfortable to some, but I will do what must be done to see Newhaven survive, no matter the personal cost. Just remember that what I say and do over the next days will always be to protect and preserve what you and I have built here."
Sarah screams in agony as Taisper's words literally scorch her with their fire. She stands behind Akiros and trembles with fear. Her voice wavers as she appeals to Akiros for help. "Please, my love! They're not your friends! They're trying to keep us apart!" Despite her words and even his desire to hear them, Taisper has pulled the scales from his eyes. Akiros looks her over, seeing the face of the woman he loves just as she looks in his memories, but it is not her behind the beautiful eyes that used to gaze into his own.
But at the same time, I didn't want to impose or curb our DM's awesome creativity. Now it kind of feels like Akiros wouldn't have been able to do it, would have in fact lost the battle perhaps, without the help of all the rest of the gang. That in itself also poses some interesting RP possibilities of course, but not quite in the direction I had been planning things to go. Looks like Akiros may still have some dark & difficult days ahead. (After all, how can a man be confident to lead an army of men if he cannot even defeat one foe by himself?)
It also kind of feels like some of the...free will(?) was taken away from him by the actions of the others? But then again, isn't it always that way when playing in a group? Perhaps I've just been spoiled having Akiros all to my self these past several weeks and now I need to learn to share my toys. ; )And please, don't misunderstand me here, I'm not complaining, and I'm not unhappy with the game or anything like that, not remotely! Just being honest with what I'm feeling at present. Have to run right now though, I'll post more tonight. Should be interesting at least!
The more I think on it, the possibilities with the storyline the way it is I see.
"Shut your trap you evil hag." Berrin growls as he moves forward into the room, brandishing his sword. "You've caused enough grief with your twisted words and deceiving appearance. Today is you last day on this earth, use you final breaths for something smarter than lies you sow. Your head on a spike will serve as a message to your ill conceived kin who think to dupe us as you have!" He promises to the doppelganger as he closes the distance to her and swings his greatsword in an over-head chop at her.
Berrin's sword crashes into the stone with a loud *CRACK*, sending rivulets of shock up Berrin's arms, as Sarah, watching Berrin approach as seeing his swing coming, easily steps out of the big blades way.
When Verik finishes Berrin's face is a mask of stone, angry and determined all in one, holding Verik's gaze for a long moment. "And you wonder why I like to drink." he finally says, his voice cold. "Politics. It makes my stomach churn. Men should have the authority to deal with their own problems." he says empathically, "Men should have the right to set their own law and govern their own societies so long as they're not willfully causing harm to others. If we'd gone a different path none of this need have happened. We could have given people power and then they could have acted themselves. Instead we've forced them to mill about like sheep, waiting for our say-so before they can muster the courage to do anything like we've got some divine right to rule. If we'd given the policing of Sanctuary over to the people themselves they'd know each other well enough not to be taken in by some f#!$ing doppelganger or whatever the hell is plaguing the city now. If we'd given them the power to form their own councils over matters they deem important we wouldn't have to be playing at politicking with everyones lives at stake!" By the end of his rant Berrin is speaking through clenched teeth with a finger in Verik's face.
"You won't tell me what your planing? Fine!" Berrin says, stepping back. "I'll trust you. Just as you'll trust me. I'm seeing this through Verik. And that's that. If I have to put a dozen heads on a spike, I will. But I'm not going to louse this up now Verik. Too many lives depend on us to flake now, Verik. Alright?"
Berrin, thanks dude.
And Barcus, that was perfect. You nailed that one. Everything you wrote in the spoiler describes Akiros exactly and is completely logical progression-wise. It's very likely the way it would have gone with Akiros in that situation.
Moreover, you're assertion that everything could have, and would have, gone very differently, given different dice outcomes, or different choices, is Truth as well.
Just as in Life. Most of the time our path is determined by our choices, but sometimes it a roll of the die. Sometimes it's both.
I was obviously (and temporarily) having a narrow-ish view of the potential directions I wanted Akiros/his story, to go.
Thanks for the reminder to widen the scope of my vision bro.
Like I said, there's Reason this game is awesome.
[spoiler=if you really don't know the answer]
All of you silly!
Shame on you!
Berrin remembers standing in line with his fellow soldiers, tense, shields raised and swords out, ready to receive a charging enemy, putting his trust on the man next to him to guard his flank and thinking that the plume-headed, horse-f~@!ing commander behind him better know what the hell he was doing. He remembers walking the streets of New Stetven versus walking the streets of Sanctuary. The smiles he received from the citizens, the sense of calm and safety, a sense of pride of having a hand in instigating that feeling for the budding town and a pride at having earned their trust, a pride in seeing the endless hours of discussion and argument at the council tables bear fruit, of suffering the rants of emissaries from every neighbor the country had, veiled threats and half spoken promises.
Standing there with a look of stubborn defiance Berrin actually pouts. "Maybe." he finally manages. "Aarrgh. Dammit Verik!" he snarls out quietly at hearing his own weak words. The bloody cleric was probably right! "Ok, maybe! I'll give you that Verik. Maybe they do. And their stuck with us, right? That's what your implying isn't it? Alright Verik, I'll play my part. I'll defer to you wisdom priest, I'll do what needs to be done." he affirms.
"I'd still feel better if I knew what you were planning." He finishes grim faced, holding out his hand to clasp Verik's arm to seal a bargain.
Verik almost involuntarily looks aside over to the others as he says this, not having much ability to hide what is on his face as it turns to a frown. It is not clear if he is looking at Jemini or Nikolai, as the two are standing near each other on the other side the campfire. Berrin can tell the cleric tries to play it off, however, with a bit of sudden brevity and a shrug of his shoulders.
"No sense in speculating idly if we return to find Sanctuary burned down to the ground, so first thing's first. Just be sure not to charge that hulking steed of yours up through the window into the Founder's Hall when we get there...if nothing else that it will make your thycaline upset at you eh?"
Taisper's smile fades a little when it becomes clear something is not going according to plan, but he only quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head, still laughing as Verik gently floats down and into the water, and obviously not on purpose. Needing to rinse off anyway, the inquisitor wades out into the water and gives his cousin a hand.
"Takes some practice, I'm sure. I can't imagine what that must be like! Anyway, it's sure to impress and as you say -- sure to be useful as well. Now c'mon. Let's go dry off."
Turning back to Valnyr Berrin sets to work at calming the beast down and getting it ready for the night, and in the process himself as well.
'This is not Her! This is not Sarah!!!'
As the illusionary walls of his delicate fantasy begin to collapse like shattering stained glass windows made of smoke, the gyser of his hopeful love immediately begins to drop into a bottomless abyss of pain and rage.
Before him stands a perfect vision of his beloved, stolen directly from his mind and dreams of her. Yet despite what his eyes tell him and his heart still longs to believe, he knows now the creature for what it is, the doppleganger. Malgorzata. Wretched harbinger of a dark and twisted God. Betrayer. Murderer. Thief of hope and dreams. The being who had single-handedly held an entire city in hostage for nightmarish days on end. No more. NO. MORE!
His eyes red coals of burning hatred and focused on the source of his fury, the general's hand moves almost faster than the eye can see as he draws his great broadsword. His voice raspy and torn with lack of use and raw emotion, the nearly out of his mind warrior grabs the sapeshifter by her throat and screams in her face "How Dare You! You murder my friend! You terrorize my people! You've taken almost everything that I care about and now This! You take Her! You defile the last thing I have! My memory of her! You flap your vile serpent's tongue to try and use the thought of my unborn son against me?? "
With a final scream of rage and pain, he thrusts the magically crafted blade forward as if propelled by the arm of a giant, straight into Malgorzata's heart, piercing through her with such force that the blade sinks into the wall halfway up to it's hilt, leaving the dying form of the doppleganger hanging like some grotesque marionette with it's strings cut.
As if his own strings were cut Akiros collapses to his knees. For a moment his eyes stare in horror at this memory now made flesh again. The nightmare that has plagued his dreams almost every night these past many years- Sarah, his beloved, struck through the heart with this very same blade. Whether by some twisted desire to torment her foe even unto her dying breath, or merely a tick of her failing nervous system, Sarah's hand reaches out imploringly to him, his name once more croaked from her throat "Akiros...."
And it is too much, it is far, far too much and snatching from his bed the dagger that he had been hiding underneath himself, Akiros raises it high, takes one last look at his beloved, and squeezing his eyes shut whispers "I'm coming my beloved. We shall be together at last Sarah, all three of us! Oh Sarah. And my Son! I am coming to you both!"
And the blade flashes down, aimed with all his remaining strength straight for his shattered heart.
Attack:
Damage:
Confirm Crit:
Crit Damage:
Total Damage=37hp
Actions:
Swift- Issue Challenge
Power Attack
Malgorzata spits up black ichor as she twitches in her final moments. Akiros's blade pierced her through the heart and pinned her to the wall. She slumps forward onto the hilt, her breathing ragged as Sarah's features retreat from her face. When Akiros raises his dagger high to take his own life, her gray featureless face shows a small malicious smirk. Try as she might to see him plunge it down, she does not have the strength. As his blade comes down, her head falls forward and she lays still.
Jemini, unaware of the turmoil elsewhere in the city, looks for Jhod. Right now, she figures, a cleric of Erastil would be the most efficient aid in finding a simple pasture for the broken men. With no clues other than 'gone north' to help her she settles for the first set of clergy she can find. "Blessings of the day upon you," she initiates, "so much has happened - here and on our mission - so much needs to be done and righted. Tell me please, is there a small farmstead nearby that could act as a shelter for men bereft of mind and spirit? We've rescued a good dozen men from the clutches of a hatch of harpies - those spawn of Lamashtu left their cruel imprint on the poor men; they may very well never again be able to enjoy society as we do. I was hoping to find a small farm or similar shelter for them - a place nearby that would only require simple tasks of them, and somebody to oversea the place and their well-being."
Verik looks off towards the castle where Berrin and his cousin raced off to just a little while before, only half paying attention to the gate guards that have greeted their return. He and Jemini have just finished seeing to the immediate needs of the broken men, as one of the guards has sent a runner to the castle to bring servants to assist in bringing them in. Sadly, Verik had to tell Jemini that the facilities of his "bank" are limited with the presence of his four acolytes, and he cannot house them adequately - he does not disagree with her passionate urgency to get them to a quiet location where they can be cared for, and watches her go with a grim look upon his face. You have too many charges dear Jemini, and you now leave the lambs with the lion. I cannot take him in hand without the rod, but dare I leave him to his own devices?
Leaving Verik with Zander, Nikolai, Gregary and Jabber, it takes only a moment for him to decide whom he wishes to remain with. "Zander I must make haste to the bank and see how my young clerks are faring, as well as see what the current state of law-breaking and tallied damages are, especially if Oleg and Svetlana are up north. I will make my way to the castle as soon as possible, but I expect this will be a long night for all of us. The castle servants will get these men cloistered as best as possible, and you know Gregary and your own men best. Send word to me at the Bank of Abadar if you but have need."
With a nod to the Warden and an aversion to address the hulking scion of Rogvaria, Verik turns to Jabber. "Jabber, take one of my blankets and put it around your head and shoulders, and come with me now." After a moment he spurs Virtue forward and makes directly for the makeshift "bank" of Abadar.
what the hell does he think he's doing that ain't how Taisper realizes what Akiros is after before his thought even finishes. Not wanting to get between the lethal samurai and his dagger, the inquisitor uses what have lately been his most effective weapons -- his words.
"Akiros Ismort HOW DARE YOU! The Master of the First Vault has seen fit to intervene on your behalf, sending myself and Berrin here to aid you and now you let reason give way to base sentimality! YOU DROP THAT WEAPON! You drop it and get on your knees and beg God for his forgiveness! NOW!" Taisper's voice thunders forward with righteous fury at what is clearly about to be a suicide attempt. you son of a b*$#& you don't get to go that easy you are MARKED you are JUDGED you is mine and ain't another way that's gonna not after all you done just sit you sit you wait you eyes
Berrin stares daggers at the witch pinned to the wall by Akiros's sword, dimly satisfied at seeing her gurgle blood with her dying breath he straightens his back and prepares to face Akiros. The man had allot of explaining to do.
'What!?' Akiros's last words register is Berrin's mind as he realizes Taisper's words were aimed at the swordsman. "Hells Akiros!" he shouts as Akiros cowers under the abadarian's chastation, swinging his greatsword at the dagger.
The force of the swinging greatsword rips the dagger from Akiros's shaking fingers, sending it flying away.
"GET A GRIP MAN! CONTROLL YOURSELF!" Berrin barks in Akiros's face.
Zander makes his way toward his barracks and office. The other survivors he leaves to Jemini's care, but he leads Gregary back to the Warden barracks, hoping that a sense of remembrance might comfort his mind. The young man bobs quietly along on Zander's horse, the kobold Jabber, holding the reins in front of him, having the exact opposite expression on its face, one of seer wonder. Later I will see if Talandra might be available to talk with Gregary, she has that way to know what truly gnaws at your heart. But as for Jabber, I figure he is safer with my men than anyone else.
Cheers and guffaws go up at the sight of the three figures returning, but the stern expression on Zander's face and the blank one on Gregary's quickly mull the crowd into murmuring. As his wardens gather round he passes Gregary into their care. "Help him. Help him remember who we are. What we do. And especially that he is a very brave man. He has confirmed the reports of the Trolls, but was attacked by harpies....They...damaged him. This other one is Jabber, until he comes up with a better name. He is in OUR...care. Best to see he gets into VERY.LITTLE. mischief. Even better if he makes himself useful around the barracks and away from curious eyes." Zander's tone was clear that he expected no harm to befall the kobold from his men or the townsfolk and they were to see he stayed out of Zanders' way for now.
He makes his way to his office and shrugs his pack off. He pours some water into a bowl and splashes the water into his face. His finger bump along the scars, reminding him, (as it always does) of who he really is. He steps back to the doorway back into the barracks and addresses his Wardens. He reports on ford being cleared of a hydra and the battle saving the gnome caravan. Mention of that leads him to inquire whether Master Northrapple has made an appearance in the city. He details the information gathered from the lizard prisoners and their guide, Jabber. He steps back into his room and comes back with he Gnome maps and orders copies made. On them he points to each encounter spot. His finger comes to rest on the lake and the tower. "Cyclops built, by the looks of it. The priests of Adabar will be looking to return there and give the place a cleansing. We will be assisting in that. The harpies were there, and the Troll are south of there. One harpy escaped. All patrols to the south will be a minimum...minimum of four wardens. Visual recon only. A small amount of wax will be issued to block one's ears...their song is overpowering to human minds. Engage only in self defense or to protect others. The trolls will be dealt with once the Founders regroup."
He watches as the warden responsible for today's report log scratches away with ink and quill, trying to keep up with his bowquick report. He looks up at his men, "Well, that was my report. Let's hear what I missed."
--------------------
Muttering as he made his way to the castle, "How long were they going to let me blather?" He understood they protestations, that the city turmoil was not their jurisdiction. Akiros and the Guard were handling the curfews and manhunts. But still, the guards just waved us through at the edge of town. Glad to see us, I'll grant them that, but still...murder in our new city and the Marshall at that. Corwin...what happened?
Zander enters the castle intending to get the full report, not just what his Wardens have learned about assisting the Guard in looking for a shapeshifter.
My dear Jemini and honoured Founders:
With the dire nature of the events of late and the very real threat of losing all you have worked so hard to build here, I urge you return to Sanctuary with all due haste. I am a soldier, a warrior, and I know of battle, and tactics and the command of men and the defence of the innocent. These matters of magic and the dark twisting of men's minds and souls may, I fear, be beyond my meagre abilities to overcome.
In addition, regarding a matter perhaps just as dire and disturbing,the loss Captain Corwin was a major blow to us. Sanctuary has lost one of it's most capable and noble protectors and I have lost one of the very few I did name friend. Even more important though, I have me some grave concerns over my only remaining supposed ally in these matters. More of this though I will not commit to paper.
As always, I shall do my utmost best to honour the trust and responsibility you have put in me. I believe you know that I shall never give up and shall fight to my dying breath if need be to protect and serve Sanctuary and all her citizens. Yet we face a foe I cannot cut with my sword, nor send our army directly against. If Sanctuary is to survive, it is my heartfelt belief that she may need all her protectors standing by her.
I have not put my faith in the Divine for many years now, yet I ask that you pray to the Gods you hold dear that by the time you return home, there shall indeed be a home to return to.
I remain, in honour and duty,
General Akiros Ismort
Verik finds himself moving Virtue through the main thoroughfare towards the wooden structure that is called the Bank of Sanctuary, just off the beginnings of the open space that will one day be the main town square. Initially calling for Jabber to go with him, the kobold seemed hard-pressed to leave the horses, Zander and Gregary, so he entrusted him to Zander's care for the time being.
He moves quickly on Virtue to the entrance of the bank before dismounting, relieved to see the grounds outside well-lit by magical orison, the heavy front wooden doors guarded by two soldiers of the militia. Verik makes his way to the guards as they bow before him, murmuring a blessing in return and anxious to make sure that his four acolytes are safe and whole.
Immediate Action, Resolve/Resoloute-Re-roll Will save DC15:
Before his dagger can find his heart, allowing him sweet release from his torment, allowing him to rejoin his loved ones, a voice commands him to stop. In his maddened state however it is not Taisper's voice he hears. The words are garbled but the meaning is clear, another enemy is trying to keep him from his family! And it is no ordinary voice either, for it carries the weight of Divine Will behind it. Yet Akiros had long ago given up any faith in the Divine, forging a path on his own, and his force of will was legend. Growling in rage for a frozen moment of time Akiros is locked in place, locked in a battle of will's between the inquisitor and his God. Yet in this time, in this place, it is Akiros will which proves the far stronger. With a yell of victory the dagger once again speeds towards his heart.
Yet at the last second, a mere hairsbreadth before it pierces his flesh, his blade is knocked out of his hand! His red rimmed eyes snapping open, his crazed gaze falling on the demon who had taken away his reunion with Sarah, taken away his son. With a roar of incoherent fury Akiros launches himself at his foe.
Move action-Stand
Swift action-Challenge Berrin
Standard Action-Grapple Berrin:
Taken aback by Akiros's animalistic fury Berrin instinctively lashes out at the samurai as he jumps on him. Turning the blow Berrin smashes Akiros squarely in the head with the flat of the blade before the swordsman crashes into him.