Hrmmm... All very interesting, but how does it tie into the Professor's death and will? How does this help us? Hrolf asks, frustrated.
The knock comes on the door again.
"They've gone, you lout." There is heavy derision in this voice.
"He said they were in here!" comes an exasperated answer.
Hrolf answers the door, snarling and barking at whoever is there with a furious WHAT?! that he fuels with his frustration.
One of the acolytes in the hall yells in surprise and runs the opposite direction down the hall. The other stands there, his face white.
"A town meeting has been called, sir. The presence of you and your fellows is requested."
Iovanna is too deep in a book to hear the first knock.
"I wonder who those five notorious criminals were?"
"Why are we needed for a town meeting? Does it have to do with the attack of those stirges or perhaps the missing gravediggers?"
Rosanna looks up from the book, sighing in frustration. "Well i'm not achieving anything here. I suppose we'd better go to this meeting." Carefully she replaces the tome on its shelf and then pulls her hood up over her head to hide, as much as possible, her appearance.
"It is said that you stood valiantly in defense of the towns square." The acolyte speaks reluctantly, distracted by Hrolf's height. "Perhaps you will be commended? I do not know the nature of the meeting, but will you come?"
"Why are we needed for a town meeting? Does it have to do with the attack of those stirges or perhaps the missing gravediggers?"
Probably because we're the only ones doing anything or seemingly capable of swinging a weapon in this soft man's town.
Tell them we're on our way.
Jaxus smiles slightly at his find in the book and looks up at the knock at the door. "Well maybe we can find more on these criminals in the book but we had better get to the meeting."
Jaxus puts the book back and heads out the door.
"I will." The acolyte nods before moving down the corridor and out of sight.
You extinguish the torches in the library and follow in his path after a moment, having shelved the books you were reading. The Pharasmin Temple is silent but for a barely audible prayer being uttered by one of the acolytes in the main chamber. Nobody escorts you to the door, but you find your way out easily enough.
You sense the commotion in town from the steps of the church. Even from across the creek, you can tell that many people are gathering. It seems this will be no small meeting.
A sharp wind begins to blow as you step onto the bridge. Its sound all but drowns out the bustle of town. Strange that your group would find itself alone on the bridge at a time when so many are heading from their homes to the meeting. The wind blows harder, whipping your cloaks about. It subsides the second your feet find the opposite bank.
The townsfolk are filing into a large, rectangular building. It takes some time and patience for you to manage an entrance, but the berth that the locals give you proves somewhat advantageous. Your group finds a row of seats on a wooden bench. The panic in the room is palpable.
A woman not far from you turns to her neighbor. "Mason found Little Ebbey on the roof in the middle of the night, singing! Can you imagine? Singing? That little one doesn't say so much as a word for months, but in the middle of the cold night, she crawls on to the roof and sings?"
Another man speaks from in front of you. "Four times did the rapping on the window sound, and four times I drew my hatchet and opened it to nothing. There is wickedness afoot."
Another voice. "Stirges don't act that way, no sir. Bewitchment, plain as day."
Strange gossip in hushed tones fills the room for several minutes. When the council enters, however, the congregation stands at once and erupts with an enormous din. Councilman Hearthmount, the portly man you have become acquainted with, hammers upon the podium with his gavel, but it is futile; he cannot gain control of the assembly.
Rosanna follows the others into the crowded room, hunching her shoulders protectively and checking that her hood is concealing her features as much as possible. As the group make their way to the benches she finds a protected spot between Hrolf and Iovanna before glancing nervously around at the gathered throng.
When the coucilman finally enters and the assembly erupts into confusion Rosanna huddles further within her deep cloak, clutching Aranca tight and storking him soothingly.
Jaxus walks into the large room and leans against the wall next to Rosanna, These people are scared and don't know what to do. he thinks as he listens to the surrounding conversations.
"Will you do nothing, Hearthmount?" A voice rises above the others. The councilman's face is drained of color. He bangs the gavel again, but the clamor does not die down. A rotten apple flies from the crowd and splatters on the stage.
Vashian Hearthmount looks defeated as his eyes scan the riotous crowd. His gaze falls upon your group, and he silently implores you to aid him.
I think ye'd better step up to the occassion Iovanna... Hrolf mutters as the crowd gets ugly.
Iovanna stands and walks up to the stage, then turns and faces the crowd. "Please, restrain yourselves. Yelling and throwing rotten vegetables won't help the problems plaguing this town. My friends and I defeated those stirges, let us try to figure out what brought them here and maybe we can figure out what force is plaguing this town."
The crowd quiets down, but hostility yet hangs thick in the air. For every angry face glaring at Iovanna, however, there is another one filled with desperate hope.
"Who are you?" Despite the mutterings rippling through the room, you hear the little boy's voice clearly. "Haven't seen you here. Who are you?" The gathering quiets, as if awaiting a response.
"My name is Iovanna and I traveled here from Lastwall for a funeral and I was present earlier to help fight off those stirges. My sword is pledged to Iomedae to fight evil wherever I find it and I wish to offer my help to this town that was home to my friend."
"We're glad of your help, but tell us...what's going on?" A man in the back calls across the room. "There is something that moves within my walls, and my wife sits rocking in the middle of our room. She doesn't know my own touch."
The murmur of the crowd builds again. Councilman Hearthmount pounds his gavel again, with such vigor that the jowls on his neck jiggle. This time, it brings the room to relative silence.
"We don't know what's causing it."
"Petros would know!" a voice calls.
"Yes, Lorrimor would know what to do."
"He was a wizard. Probably him that's doing it!"
Hearthmount bangs his gavel again.
Let it be said now, that any maggot who dares question the late Professor's integrity again will face an honourable challenge from ME! Hrolf roars, banging his mace on his shield for attention with a crash that reverberates through the room. Such naysayers did not deserve the great man!
Hrolf closed his eyes for a moment, letting his threat and words sink in, and goes to his spirit place, where he finds both the Elder and the Silver Wolf waiting to advise him. Time seems to stand still for him as the familiar clearing in the grove of trees atop the celestial mountain materialises in his mind, he in the centre and all around him, seats of carved stone and bone.
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Greetings, Hrolf Steinolf Shaman Gudmand Frodi, the Silver Wolf, said to him. This time, he was in his human form, almost as ancient as the Elder but with a predatory posture that never truly left his posture, a reminder that he was as much Wolf as Man. He was sat upon one of the many seats in Hrolf's spirit council, leaning forward expectantly. Hrolf bowed deeply and then sank to one knee.
I come to seek your advice, ancestors. he began. These people- how can I best make such weak men and women keep their spirits and morale in face of such strange events and threats?
The Silver Wolf seemed to look down upon Hrolf in disapproval, his ancient face frowning.
They may be weak individually Hrolf, but see the purpose that grips them when they are united in their questions and fear. Recall the teachings of Old Deadeye and the strength of community. Think of them as a pack of wolves without an alhpa- give them purpose and they will endure, together. Brook no challenge to your dominion over them, for it is for their own good that you and your allies control the situation. Give them hope, give them purpose, give them fear and most importantly of all- give them the truth.
The Silver Wolf suddenly changed into his beastial form, leaping for Hrolf's throat. Too slow did the Ulfen man react, and the massive grey wolf slammed into him, knocking him on his back as the grove in the mountains faded away.
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Hrolf took a deep breath, involuntarily shuddering at the feeling of his ancestor's teeth on his throat.
Now that I have yer attention again, hear me now citizens. You are being assailed by the Undead- and we are finding evidence to suggest the spirits in Harrowstone Prison are restless and causing these happenings. I won't speak for my companion, but I plan to investigate these troubles and to honour the Professor and his hometown- and I suspect I will not have to go alone. We will drive the spirits from the prison or find some way to seal them safely away again. Until we succeed though, expect things to get worse. You must stop casting blame at one another and realise this is a threat to all of you. Pull together, people of Ravengro. Honor your ancestors with your courage and fortitude and together we may yet see the sun rise on this dark night in your town's history.
Spirit Council assisted diplomacy.
The muttering dies down. The congregation looks between Hrolf and Iovanna.
Councilman Hearthmount bangs his gavel unnecessarily. "Very well then. We have an offer of aid, and one most appreciated." He glances quickly at Hrolf, but does not meet his eyes. "Threats aside, there will be no more defamation of Petros Lorrimor. Regardless of what you may think, he had a good heart, and he is Pharasma's now besides."
The crowd mumbles in agreement.
"Your words move us, strangers, and though we fear this haunting, it is good to know there are brave souls willing to assist." Hearthmount continues. "You will have the full cooperation of the council. Our resources are at your disposal."
There is some grumbling. Hearthmount bangs the gavel.
"And that of the church as well." Vauran Grimburrow stands at the back of the room, against the wall. You did not see him enter.
"Good, good." Hearthmount approaches Iovanna and awkwardly places a timid hand on her shoulder. "So we are to have help from the warrior of Lastwall, and from the tall Ulfen." He beckons Hrolf to come up to the stage, but still does not meet his gaze. "Who else will offer to accompany them?"
Rosanna glances up as the two warriors make their way up to the stage. We should join them Aranca, they're good people and may have some need of healing as they journey to the Harrowstone. Besides, how else are we to deal with those who killed the proffesor. Yes, yes I know that these townfolk might be dangerous, but what else can we do? We must help them. The young half-elf silently rises to her feet and nervously makes her way to the stage without a word. Taking her place slightly behind Hrolf and Iovanna.
Jaxus pushes himself off the walk and follows Rosanna up the strage and next to his companions.
Vauran Grimburrow walks up the aisle, towards the stage. The crowd quiets; it is clear that he commands greater respect than the town council.
"Your comrade, Brother Hayashi, has offered to assist me with a similar endeavor. I have need of his talents, so I am afraid he will not be joining you."
Cathran had scarcely time to process the Professors death when she was hurried towards the town hall by his daughter, daughter? Kendra. Cathran meant to thank the young woman, but for her curiosity with the proceedings within, she did not recognize that Kendra had simply started off without another word, or disappeared into the crowd. Cathran, scimitar peace-bonded at her side, stepped into the assembly and found a quiet corner of the small building from which to observe the proceedings. At five foot eleven, bronze complected, armed and of elven descent besides, Cathran cannot possibly be mistaken for a native, but curiously, not a one startles at her presence.
When the large man snarls at the crowd, Cathran's jet eyes narrow slightly, but as he continues she recognizes that there is more to his frustration than she can understand at a glimpse. She watches the warrior and the slight elven woman step forward and stand beside the tall man and the female knight. Are each of them the Professor's companions?
Cathran steps forward seconds after the elderly man walks towards the stage.
"Where evil swells in darkness intent to prey upon the world, I am bound by mine honor to my Lady of the Dawn to bear Her light and triumph, and to heal the hearts of them afflicted," Cathran states, shoring herself up to her full height. "I am Cathran, of the Crusades at Mendev, and if you will have me, I pledge myself to your cause."
The man, garbed in the cloth of the Pharasmin Church, looks warily at Cathran. "A crusader." He takes a few careful steps towards her, then turn to look at Iovanna on the stage. "Weren't we just talking of crusaders, Iovanna of Lastwall?"
Cathran of Mendev- there is always a place for a warrior at our side. Everone else- even if you do not have the skill at arms to fight this evil, you can all help. Pray to your ancestors and gods for the strength to endure. Care for thy neighbor and share his troubles. To survive this, you must pull together, become a tribe, a community, rather than acquaintances that gather only in hard times. Endure, Ravengro, and know that we will defeat this menace!
As the armoured woman approaches the stage Rosanna glances at her and then, forgetting herself, stares wide-eyed at the newcommer. Aranca, this woman, she looks a bit like me! Those ears and her eyes! Could it be that she is also a half-elf as The Professor said I am? I wonder if she knows of the elves? Why is she not worried about how these normal people will react to her? Well yes, it is a big sword, but even so..
The townspeople murmur quietly amongst themselves. Their wariness of strangers is as apparent as ever, but in their eyes, there is a trust that was not there before. Perhaps there is unity in this place after all.
Suddenly, the lamps on the wall begin burning intensely, casting a brilliant light around the room. The folk of Ravengro cry out in panic as the shadows appear on the ceiling. The evil presence is palpable.
The lamps explode, shooting bursts of fire down into the assembly. People scream as cloaks catch fire, and the floorboards begin to smolder. Licks of flame rise amidst the crowd as the terrified citizens scramble for the exit.
Initiative:
Cathran -
Hrolf -
Iovanna -
Jaxus -
Rosanna -
Initiative Order:
Rosanna
Jaxus
Cathran
Hrolf
Iovanna
"Oh my... Rosanna starts at the sudden explosion of fire in the hall. Taking in the scene with a glance she shouts out "Please you must calm down and help each other to get out safely. Quickly, to the doors.
.
Fearing that people could be trampled, Iovanna attempts to calm the townsfolk and direct them towards the exit. "Everyone please, try to be calm as you walk to the doors. There is no cause to push, there are just a few small fires, that is all."
Hrolf opts for helping to save a life- moving to D5 and grabbing the townperson, helping him to his feet and dragging him clear.
Cathran will double move, intent to save the town's person at D11, ending her movement occupying F11 if at all possible, if not, she will end her movement at H11 and spend her next round trying to save him/her.
Round 2
Rosanna
Jaxus
Cathran
Hrolf
Iovanna
Hrolf bravely pulls a screaming woman from the flames and sets her aside safely. Cathran moves quickly and is primed to assist a man whose cloak has caught fire.
Though people are screaming in panic, Iovanna's voice rises above the din, directing the fearful folk out of the door and into safety.
Rosanna rushes forward to the woman Hrolf saved, places her hands on the her burnt flesh and mutters softly under her breath...
Cathran pulls the town's person at E11 from the fire.
Mother, please, this is your concern. Would that you not allow it to harm your children! My arms can only save so many without aide!
The woman that Hrolf pulled from the fire gasps in surprise at Rosanna's soothing touch. Cathran pulls the burning cloak free of the screaming man and leads him to safety.
The healing can wait girl, help with the fires and keeping people out of them! Hrolf snaps as he tries to battle the fire closest to him.
Between grabbing a tapestry and brandishing it ineffectively at the fire, Hrolf elaborates-
Once everyone's out of here and safe, someone should start organising them to gather buckets of water... we won't contain this ourselves...
Hrolf moves to F5, seeking some distance for temporary respite from the flame hes struggling with.
Iovanna heads towards the fires in L15, fearing that if that fire spreads it will block the only exit.
"I'm going to try to keep the fire from spreading to the doors."
There are only a few townsfolk left in the hall, but the fires are growing.
Round 3
Rosanna
Cathran
Hrolf
Iovanna
Jaxus?
Oorin?
Once the fires break out a horrible panic wells up from inside Jaxus. "We must get out of here, we will burn and die, flee fool.
Jaxus feet start moving toward the exit before he gets a hold of himself. No there are too many people in here to flee now either help me or shut up. Jaxus snarls to himself. He quickly looks around and sees one lone villager trying desperatly to put out the flames crawling up her legs.
Jaxus rushes to towards the girl and leaps over the bleacher.
At Hrolf's words Rosanna looks up and blushes in shame, she hadn't had to deal with anything like this before and wasn't at all sure of herself. In response to the big man's words she pulls off her cloak and attempts, clumsily to help him extinguish the fire closest to her.
Cathran recognizes that she is unable to move quickly enough to save the remaining civilian threatened by fire, but she is near enough to one to begin fighting the flames.
Jaxus nears the girl, but it might be too late. The flames surround her and she collapses.
Cathran deftly douses part of the fire near her.