It is the fourth of Neth in the small Nirmathan town of Kassen, and the winter winds are just beginning to blow. Regardless of what time you woke up this morning, the town was already bustling with preparations for the town's semi-annual Everflame festival, where a group of fresh-faced young heroes venture forth to the tomb of the town's founder and namesake, and bring back a small portion of the eternal flame that burns within. Each of you have been informed that you will be a part of the group tasked with retrieving the Everflame and bringing its protection back to this small town. It is almost noon, and you still have a short while before your quest will begin. What do you do?
Cira woke up early in the morning and packed everything she was to bring, carefully sorting her components in the order she things she might want them. When everything has been checked and stowed. She stands quietly in front of her door silently counting the seconds and minutes until she feels appropriate leaving.
I remember that merchant I once saw with a pocket watch. That would make everything so much easier. One day.
The prospect of the ceremony looms in her mind, more threatening than the actually journey. As noon begins to draw near she heads out the door and makes her way to the gathering place walking a little too quickly, reluctant to look right or left.
Athromar wakens and says his daily prayers.
Knowing he cam back to take part in the festival at his parents request he is happy he was chosen. Once this is all over I can go back to Taldor, this place is too small too boring to become a hero of any note.
Once dressed and properly armed and armored, after all if he is going to be a hero he had better look the part even if the festival is going to be the same rite it always is, he heads to teh festivities to see who else was chosen.
Cira gets to the gathering place at a time calculated to be early but not awkwardly so. When she sees Blacklock there waiting she seems utterly out of sorts for a moment.
Ok, I'm not there first. It's ok, just not what you expected, regroup.
Remembering her mother's admonition to actually talk to her fellow flame seekers she marches up to Blacklock.
"Hello Blacklock." She says, sounding like she's reading the words. "It's nice to see you today." She makes a twitching motion like she might stick out her hand, and then just stands there looking uncomfortable.
Socially awkward and uncomfortable with most people, Phineas is dismayed when he is chosen for the annual rite of passage. He has no experience outside the walls of the chapel, but his priest mentor is quite insistent.
Listlessly, Phineas makes the rounds of his animal friends at the chapel. Speaking softly to the birds in the small cage and petting the flank of the priest's mule mount. "I'll be back in a day or two. Don't worry about me! Father says I will be fine and will have Deadeye's blessings about me on the journey."
As the appointed hour draws near, Phineas bows at the altar rail for a long time make silent oblations to his patron deity, then with a heartfelt sigh, he rises and shuffles towards the meeting place, grabbing his gear, including the longbow he had taken such pains to practice with for the last several years.
Arriving there after a few of the others, he maintains a silent posture, eyes downcast, feeling out of place, like always.
Cira gives a little start as Blacklock hands her the weed. She takes it and inspects it.
"Um... aeramensis boticulous. Err, it's a very nice one."
She hands it back.
Athromar observes those that begin to gather. He knows no one having been away so long he simply observes and does not speak.
"Oh, ok then."
Perplexed Cira fights the urge to turn around and go to her nook in Holgast's tower. It's ok. It will be over soon.
Not knowing what to do she awkwardly holds on to the little flower and begins reciting the names of all the flora she can see under her breath to comfort herself.
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?”
Phineas shuffles his feet uneasily as the crowd, all dressed in black, gathers. Knowing he is at the center of the attention here, makes his social anxiety raise even more than usual. He trembles slightly but then hears the peal of bells from the temple, and is momentarily heartened. That is the song of his patron deity, calling him to action.
Almost without thinking, he steps forward to the answer the mayor's call. Unspeaking, grim-faced, eyes down-cast he stands there waiting to see who else will answer the call.
Cira mentally measures the distance across the square. Moving forward deliberately she counts her steps. One, two, three, four... Then she stops abruptly. Oh, no! Have I gone too far? Am I standing too close?
She stands at attention awkwardly, the little flower forgotten in her left hand.
Athromar steps forward as well a bit surprised at the others who do so, they seem... timid.
Glad this is all for show, no room for the meek when facing true dangers... .
He remains quiet not knowing the correct words, it has been some time since he attended the last festival!
Mayor Uptal nods solemnly when the four of you step forward, "And so it shall be" he says to the group, "You will be the heroes of our village, just like those before you. Who, among you, shall have the honor of bearing the lantern that will protect our home in the months to come?"
Once one of you accept it, the mayor continues, "The way ahead will be fraught with peril. It is vital for you to succeed, and so we have appropriated funds to ensure your quest is completed." He presents each of you with a backpack filled with gear.
When you have donned your backpacks, the mayor turns back to the townsfolk, and indicates your group, “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, he points to the south, the direction of Kassen’s tomb, and the townsfolk begin waving goodbye with cold, solemn looks on most of their faces.
Cira eyes the lantern speculatively. “Rationally the lantern bearer should be someone for whom the honor is meaningful and who will benefit most from said honor. Blacklock benefits substantially from his inclusion in the ceremony at all. Phineas is not well known to me but as a temple acolyte his inclusion is in the ceremony is not unusual. The other is not known to me but having never seen him I will hazard a guess that his participation is a formality, and his attachment to the town is not deeply personal. I will nominate Phineas as the one to gain the greatest benefit from the ‘honor’ of being lantern bearer."
"M-m-m-me?" Phineas stammers, his eyes widening in alarm as the girl suggests he should be the lantern-bearer. He stops momentarily confused, but his well-trained sense of duty overrides his mortal embarrassment, and he steps forward to receive the ornamental lantern from the mayor. "By the example of Old Deadeye, I shall try to live up to the honor bestowed on me." he says in a small voice, but he smiles briefly at Cira before dropping his eyes to the ground again.
Phineas then shuffles forward to take up one of the backpacks, and a piece of the map. He turns to the south and nods at the crowd waving and with a deep sigh, starts out in the direction indicated, carrying the lantern reverently.
Athromar nods in agreement, "And it is our job to assist you in that duty Phineas. I am Athromar Karthis, I have been away for some time but many of you may know my parents. Come let us get going".
"Good."
Cira nods with satisfaction as Phineas takes the lantern, and then nods again at Athromar's introduction.
"Eh... off we go then."
She looks like she thinks she might wave or bow towards the assembled townsfolk, but it just manifests as an indecisive shrug and she starts of south after Phineas.
"So be it." The Mayor hands Brother Phineas the lantern. "Go forth, brace heroes, and return to us the Eternal Flame in our hour of need."
As you head out of town, you get several solemn farewells from the assembled townsfolk.
Phineas is pleased to be out a long walk, and silently trudges along holding the lantern in one hand. He doesn't initiate any conversation, but will politely, if shyly, respond to any.
He offers his piece of the map to anyone with good map-reading or outdoor skills to make sure the group is headed in the right direction.
Cira has some skill at getting around in the woods, earned through the years spent foraging for materials for Holgast.
"Unless one of you is a woodsman, I should look at the map fragments.
She pauses to study them for a moment. "The Broken Glade is the first landmark along the way. We should reach it easily."
As she walks a question comes to her.
"My understanding of the Everflame ritual is that it is a mechanism that serves to increase ties with the town. In the interest of cohesion. Unless of course you believe the town requires the protection of a mystical flame. If that were the case the would surely send somebody more capable. Do any of you believe that participation in this ceremony will change your attitude about Kassen in any respect?"
After you've been traveling for a few hours, easily following the map through the woods, and, as the narrow path winds 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. As you approach, a trio of snarling humanoids leaps up from behind the log, all greenish skin and fearsome tusks, bellowing vulgar challenges.
EDIT: Having a bit of trouble with the map, so this one will be gridless. I put you guys up in the order that seemed logical; feel free to change that if you want.
Athromar shakes his head at Cira's question, "I grew up here so I will always have a nostalgia for it. My participation is a way to appease my parents' desire to have me follow in their own footsteps. Thus, I have returned to fulfill the duty of son of Kassen. That said, no, the ceremony will not change my attitude".
----
Athromar draws his heavy crossbow and fires the spring loaded bolt set for just such an occurrence, "Perhaps this will more dangerous than I thought!" He blurts out as he fires
Crossbow Attack
Damage
wide of the mark.
Phineas listens to the question put by Cira, but before he can reply, green-skinned things jump from the woods. Judging them not be friendlies, Phin hooks the ornamental lantern to his belt and draws his bow, aiming at the nearest of the uglies.
Athromar's arrow goes wide, and Phineas spends some time jostling with his equipment. Blacklock holds back for a moment, waiting for an opening. Meanwhile, the lead orc charges towards Cira, uttering a guttural roar as it starts swinging its battleaxe at the alchemist!
Fortunately for her, the swing goes wide, barely glancing off Cira's armor. However, the other orcs hold back, each throwing a javelin. One whistles by Brother Phineas, the other thuds into the ground a few feet away from Cira's feet.
Suppressing her alarm Cira draws her club and strikes back.
She swings wide as well.
Blacklock's club thuds solidly into the orc's body, and it takes the blow- if barely- before turning to face the beggar, roaring a challenge.
Round 2
Phineas side steps to the left to get a clear shot and fires his bow at the orc in the back left. His hours of training with Erastil's favored weapon pays off on his first shot fired in anger.
Athromar drops his crossbow and draws his mace racing to flank the foe that attacked Cira, "You interrupted a fine conversation ugly!"
Mace Attack - Mace Damage
Phineas's shot flies true, striking the orc he aimed for straight in the chest. It recoils in pain, then charges forward, drawing its battleaxe as it does so. It lets it guard down on the way, and Blacklock manages to sneak in a blow as it moves past him, with the orc barely staggering its way to the cleric.
Meanwhile, the other orcs continue their attacks, the leader (still bleeding profusely) grips his axe with both hands and brings it down in a crushing blow, leaving Cira reeling, but still standing. In perfect sync, the final orc draws its battleaxe and misses the beggar entirely, the massive piece of metal swooshing through the air a clear foot from his head..
Round 3
Phineas is momentarily surprised when the orc warrior doesn't fall from the accurate arrow shot. "I thought they were supposed to die when I shot them..." he cries, not realizing orcs are tougher than that. It is his first live target after all...
Regaining his wits, he scrambles back away from the nearest orc, and nocks another arrow, firing with quiet desperation as the orcs seem to surround Cira.
Athromar takes a 5' step behind Cira to avoid any strike from the Orc and binds her wounds.
CLW
Cira reels from the blow, sure that her life is about to end. Then she watches in astonishment as Blacklock drops his weapon and starts laughing! Is he crazy? Wait, what is he doing?
"They're illusions?"
Phineas' arrow flies clean through an orc. Or at least, it would have. Seeds of suspicion may have entered your mind when you saw Blacklock's behavior, but when Cira outright says it, all the illusions-for illusions they were- waver and vanish before your eyes like wisps of smoke, along with all of Cira's injuries.
Cira stands still here eyes wide but unseeing.
"I... I thought I was dead."
She shakes her head. "Illusions... I don't understand."
To Athromar she says. "You cast a spell. To save me. Thank you."
After the illusions are 'defeated,' the rest of the day passes relatively quietly. Cira manages to follow the map without any difficulty, and after the four of you have traveled for a long while, the day grows long and eventually day starts to turn to night. As the sunlight fades, a bone-chilling wind whistles through the trees, piercing any clothing you put on like an icy knife. The trees rattle and shake in the gusts, sending the last few tenacious leaves tumbling to the ground, and the trail starts to become hard to follow in the fading light.
(mood music)
None of you see anything threatening in the woods, but that doesn't mean you're alone...
"It's dark. We had better stop." Cira looks around.
"I don't know who would have done that... With the illusions. It just seems mean. Maybe it was supposed to be funny. I don't really understand funny. Holgast keeps trying to teach me jokes but I just get confused. You were laughing Blacklock. Was it funny? Was it a joke?"
Cira looks for a good place to camp. "How about here?"
"We should keep watch. I don't know how to determine who who should go first. We could just go in alphabetical order by first name?"
You find a nice, level place to make camp, surrounded on three sides by thick bushes- a quality camping spot, great for a restful, uninterrupted, peaceful night sleep. However, the night is chilly and the shadows are looming. Your bellies are quite empty from walking all day, and are generally exhausted and uncomfortable. For most of you, this is more traveling than you've ever done in a week, let alone a day.
Phineas shakes his head in confusion. 'Why would there be illusions of orcs here? That is odd, isn't it"
After the group makes camp, Phineas scavenges in the immediate area for something to gather and eat. Unfortunately, his skill as a woodsman is still quite limited and he doesn't find anything to help fill the bellies of his tired and hungry companions.
He will fill in for watches where ever he is needed.
Cira nods at Blacklocks words and frowns. She busies herself setting up camp. "It's cold. Should we start a fire?
With that done she sips appreciatively at Blacklock's soup.
You start a fire with no trouble, finding plenty of timber in the woods for a blaze. As you all are sitting around the campfire, perhaps enjoying yourself, perhaps sitting in terror of the woods, you hear a long, drawn-out howl. It is followed by others, in every direction, surrounding you on all sides. This continues for what seems like an eternity, setting your teeth on edge as the noise grows closer, and closer, and closer.... Then, silence.