Working with Laguna, Teren gets the group organized for the short trek back to the mill, anyone with fighting ability forming a loose ring around civilians and the injured.
As you all decide, the group follows your lead and instructions back to the mill. They're all weary, and tired from the near miss that Laguna saved them from.
The mill is as you might all expect - tall, worn, and overgrown with greenery.
The wind has died in the trees. With quiet familiarity the Knight starts leading the others to pack up some supply crates from around the back of the mill. They begin setting up a small encampment at the mill's base, struggling though from their fatigue.
The Knight then looks to you adventurers, and gives a curt nod to the side which clearly means "We need to talk.". She begins leading the way to a small ridge overlooking the windmill, a simple tent with a small red banner and the remains of a campfire.
Sarthel, your admission of psionic power was met with little recognition. These folks have simply been through too much to care. You do notice something though... your mind's eye sees it ever so slightly: when you peer through the veil you see after images of the shadow creature leaping out, darting between people in the group savaging them. It's their collective fear and trauma, manifesting in the beyond. But it's still blurry, unfocused. You can tell that they're on the verge of breaking, and when they do this after image will solidify - when that happens? Well only bad things can come of that. Unless these people raise their spirits they're going to be chum in the waters to anything that preys on emotions and fear.
You notice something about Teren too, when you look through the veil, his left eye has a dim pink glow about it.
There's plenty that needs being attention... What do you all do?
As everyone walks with the Knight, Sarthel says "Listen everyone, this is important! We need to boost the villagers' spirits a lot, right now, or there's going to be chaos when the next attack comes. Who here can do that?"
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Power figits with his hands and looks sideways. "Well, ah, um, that is to say...could we but lay hands upon a store of spirits, 'twould be that such an effect can be most palpable and most immediate...in my experience.
Though how we would find such a thing now, I can not say, though with everything scattered about....
Failing that, I've found purpose and work can lay aside any room for tumultuous thought. This mill could be made quite defensible, did we but assign teams to tear down the top and build up the bottom. The lack of tools would make it hard, involving work for all hands. Though it might not make them cheerful, 'twould at least make them too tired to be a-frightened."
Teren follows the Knight's gesture. He nods at Rankev's suggestion of work. " That's a good idea, though we should try and leave the mill intact as much as we can; we may need it. Seeing our guard captain " he nods at Laguna, " on watch might also be reassuring for the locals, but any Scalians might be frightened instead."
Laguna nods to Teren. "You say the new faces are Scalians? Right. Anyway, if it comes to it and we have the choice, work is better than alcohol right now. A drunk group won't fare much better when the time comes. Also...actually, never mind, I probably am the captain now..." A memory from a life gone past tries to poke in, and Laguna shakes it clear from his head. "Just stick with lieutenant until we get that sorted out. And as lieutenant, I say we talk to your new friend here, Teren. Me alone might not exactly raise the Scalians' spirits, but a joint effort between one of our number and one of theirs will probably be more effective in bolstering the morale of the group as a whole."
Laguna moves to follow the knight. "I'm going to go talk. I'd suggest everyone else does the same, or starts working on the group." He looks over to where the majority of people as he walks off.
In the next posts, make it clear whether you're getting debriefed with the Knight, or helping the group. If you're helping the group, say how it's up to your imagination! The person leading the efforts to restore the group should be the one rolling, everyone assisting them will be making an aid roll.
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Power shakes his head. "Apologies, Teren. But we must needs have defenses and labor now. Whereas the grinding of grain and maize after harvest is, at best, a long-term goal. If we should ever come across such and our need for a mill is precluded by my ardor now, then you shall have my apology. But for now, the function of the mill must needs surrender to the function of the fort!
...besides. If our situation ever stabilizes heartily, 'twould not be outside the realm of the possible to simply repair it. An' er have need of such, then 'twould only be if we are stable and upon the agrarian path!"
Rankev meanders out and begins addressing the survivors. He starts by pointing out a few leaders. "You there! And you! We must needs turn this mill into a defensible position and on the quick! You shall be in charge of collection: Find those that can climb aptly and shinny up to those wings on the mill. Take them down so we might have grist for our industrial wheel!
You there, you shall be in procurement. We must needs have hammers and crowbars, for the destruction and the creation. In lieu of the real thing, then find that which can be used in its stead!
You then, you shall head up construction. Of the walls and wood that are torn down, you shall construct a blockhouse and breastworks behind which we might finally find a few hours peace! And within which we might lay our stores as such supplies fall into our hands. THIS shall be the place to which we retreat when threatened, and it is here that we make our stand!
Vae Victus!"
Power uses the fat of his intellect to direct architectural modifications to the mill, uses a thing from there to be a new thing elsewhere.
The knight begins setting up a campfire, awkwardly, as if unaccustomed to it. "My squire... was one of the first to fall."
She then flattens out a patch of earth, and draws a few points on it.
"The earth has shifted, whether by magick or nature and the sad truth is that we are lost. Pursued by these foul beasts that stalk the wood. We came here for the aid of the Chromians, but now it seems we may share their fate."
"What scouts we've had return have told us of the following landmarks. A watch tower flying a white flag a day to the north. A tangled thicket of dark wood, behind us here to the east. The river we found you to the west. A moss covered ruin in the south."
"Chromians, what can you tell me of these? Perhaps together we will chart this new wilderness and find a way to seek aid or safety; perhaps even unravel what blasphemy against the Gods did Chromia invite."
-----Rankev-----
The group follows your command, Laguna's friend Ariendel serving as an effective aide in directing the common folk. Together you're all able to reinforce some of the broken masonry, and create some basic defenses. With the meagre supplies it's just a small hut and cobbled-together fortifications, but the work seems to motivate the crowd out of the stupor.
"That should suffice for the short term."[b] Asks Ariendel, his elven frame weary with work. [b]"But we have limited supplies, we can't stay here forever. Do you have a plan Wizard?"
"I came from the south, and passed by that moss-covered ruin. It looks to have been a small but well-fortified castle, altho time has savaged it severely - most of the outer and inner walls have fallen. However, I found a single-floor dungeon, with only one point of entry, that was musty and cob-webby, but still in one piece. It could probably barely hold this group of people, but no more, and protect them pretty well from attack."
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Rankev pufts out his chest. "Indeed! A wizard always has a plan!
...occasionally some might not call it a very "good" plan, but a plan is always there!
Ah! See that? Now that we have a solid place to retreat to, we can think of expansion! Sarthel, how far away is this keep of yours? Might we be able to make it there and back again before nightfall?"
"The Blackened Grove? But that should be south west of here, not east." Teren shakes his head. " There's a few trees in it that produce a useful fruit - eat one, and you're set for a day or two; mages also use 'em for something. But it's not safe - sometimes people who try to harvest come back changed, or just don't come back."
Laguna looks at the knight. "I'm sorry for your loss. I have to hope there won't be many more." A number of memories of lives gone past attempt to trickle into Laguna's mind, but he pushes them back. "Part of that's going to be working together. And if we're going to work together, it's not going to help bring our groups to be talking about the other inviting blasphemy and the like. We don't even know if we're the only place hit like this...who know what's going on in faraway lands."
Laguna sighs. "Let's just put that aside for now. You mentioned a watchtower flying a white flag?" The Erze thinks to himself a moment, and frowns. "Most of the flags show which of the Guardian Beasts is currently watching over the nearby area. White though...white means an unidentified Beast sighting. Usually we find out quickly so we can change the flags, but...I get the feeling white doesn't mean anything friendly here."
"If you see any more watchtowers, watch for a white flag. And keep an even closer eye out for a black flag." Laguna pauses. "Black means a hostile Beast in the area. It's been a long time since anyone's had to fly that flag, but I get the feeling with creatures like the one that attacked about, it's going to get some use again."
The Knight nods to you each in turn as you speak your parts. "Then, the land hath shifted in the Catastrophe."
"The survivors wouldst surely not march a day towards certain danger. Unless we have no option I'd not soon trek towards the watchtower."
She then takes a small stick of charcoal from the now kindled fire and circles the Ruin that Sarthel described.
"My people... our people... they need rest and supplies before all else. Perhaps then the ruins may offer the surest safety and a defensible position. Although thine Wizard is shrewd with fortifications here, a mill is no true shelter.
From the ruins, an expedition of the skilled and able-bodied might find the fruit of the Blackened Grove to sustain us.
And perhaps we will find more? The Histories of Scale speak of the spoils of the Old War being stowed in secret caches within the Chromian valley."
"If I have your support, we will make for the Ruin in the morn.. and we have but one final matter to attend..." Her tone takes on a cold edge.
She stands, and plunges her longsword into the campfire - it begins to glow red with heat. Along it you see wicked and beautiful draconian runes ignite. "Circumstance has found us allies, but there is blood spilled between us. The youths I sent to the river never returned. Do you think perhaps I would forget them?" She turns to you all, longsword outstretched expectantly. Knowing the Druid took no part, she speaks to the others.
"Who among you will pay the blood debt?"
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Rankev, at Ariendel's direction the Chromians start setting up for the midday meal. It's meager fare; some biscuits, a plain soup, and no spices.
That's when you realise... the group looks one smaller than before you began.... Where did Davis go? You remember seeing him before the work began. He was helping out with the supply crates.
What do you do?
"Look...Knight...when *we* woke up, *your* kids were stealing *our* stuff from us. We took them for thieves, and defended ourselves. It's a shame that two of them died, but we knew no better. Would you not defend your own possessions if faced with such a situation? Under the current circumstances, taking another life from our small group would only serve to weaken the whole group even more - what happened *is* a tragedy, but why not let bygones be bygones, and drop this blood debt thing?
...Speaking of which, what exactly *is* a 'blood debt'?"
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Power is busing himself with the mania that comes from being a wizard and having people actually listen to him, along with the enigma of having a problem without a real solution. "Eh? Well did you try mixing it with river water? Ah, no no, nevermind, it's not salt-water. Ah, look there! Some swamp weeds. Dig up their seeds and crush them, mixing them in to the soup. Yes I know they'll taste like pungent swamp-water but that might be a fair step higher than the blandness that now assaults us!
Eh, just a moment, perhaps their were some spices in the crates that LifeCleric Varus had...the devil?
Oh by the twelve powers where has the man...Varus? Varus? Have you seen LifeCleric Varus?"
Rankev stops what he's doing and goes searching for the man was last seen.
She can't be daft enough to try and kill one of us. What did that Scalian who came through a few years back say about his debt again? Teren watches intently as he tries to recall anything about blood debts.
Teren, The Scalian's have very convoluted systems laws about ritual purification, and rectification of wrongs. You know something interesting - paying a blood debt is much like a koan. You are presented with a challenge, and the challenge must be met... How you do that, what you say while doing it, and every precise action you take following the issuance of the challenge forms part of your response.
Right now, the Knight's gaze is fixed sharply on Sarthel, whose defensive words are being measured.
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Rankev, you cause a ruckus in looking for the LifeCleric - but still he's nowhere to be seen. Still, as you scuffle around you think you hear something... a wet, smacking sound from atop the Windmill.
You also mark XP :)
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"Gah!" Rankev yells, jumping at the sound and scaring the people around him. "Did you hear that? I'm sure you heard that of course you heard that. You! You there! Is there anyone above the windmill? Well of course I don't mean 'above' it as in flying since I would be the only one who could do that and even _I_ can't do that yet, but I mean as in 'having climbed or placed' themselves upon the top-most post of the windmill?
Of confound, just come with me and let's have a look. With all that's been going through I don't want to just ignore something that could be a brain-eating nightmare monstrosity awoken by the strange goings on and come to slay us all in horrible and painful ways beyond imagination.
What? Well okay I guess I could go first but I don't see why."
Rankev gathers a few persons around him and goes to check on the odd sound.
Trying not to draw the Knight's notice, Teren makes eye contact with Sarthel and Laguna, giving a slight nod of his head and a tiny wave of his hand.
Laguna gives a quick wink to Teren, and attempts to call attention to himself. "She's right in that they didn't particularly care for the fact we would have liked our belongings back. I did ask, but apparently, they didn't particularly care for what a 'sticky'-" Laguna scowls briefly as he says this. "-or the supposedly unarmed group with them felt about their belongings being taken. I don't blame the others for their first reactions..."
Laguna pauses. Something occurs to him. "I'll pay the debt. I don't know what that entails, it's not so much a thing of our culture, but if it'll make things right then I'll be up to it. I have to ask though - not all of the people my group started to fight with lost their lives...which is fortunate, given their commitment to the fight. I retrieved one of them from the river myself, and there was another I never got the chance to treat. How are they faring?"
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Laguna, roll a Parley as you feel the Knight measure your words.
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Rankev, you're accompanied by Ariendel and Onick. While they're with you they're considered hirelings.
Ariendel the Elven Guard's cost is The Thrill of Victory and his skills are
*Protector 2
*Tracker 1
*Loyalty 1
Onick (as a hireling) has the cost of Good Accomplished, and has the skills of
*Warrior 4
*Priest 4
*Loyalty 2
Remember these, and specify when they're aiding or using their hirelings moves with you.
Rankev, you enter the windmill, the room around you is dark despite the afternoon sun outside, the stones slick, a few old and dusty tools are scattered around.
When you look around the windmill, you notice something - despite the breeze outside, the blades of the windmill aren't turning. When you get inside you feel the air is humid, and there's a damp, sticky residue in places - clogging the gears too. On closer inspection... it looks like wet masses of cobwebs?
You should be on the lookout for spiders.
You hear a wet smacking sound at the very top of the tower, however due to the delapidation of the mill, the wooden stairs are shabby and broken in most places. How could the LifeCleric have ascended them without breaking them?
What do you do.
Laguna, the Knight's gaze softens. "You have chosen the Dragon's Debt. Though your visage be monstrous, the heart of a knight dwells within." While impressed, she clearly needs concrete assurance.
"Silver tongue now wreathed in flame; Grasp the words you hath proclaim'd."
She extends the blade of the red hot longsword to you Laguna. The gesture, and invitation to self harm is clear.
She wants you to grasp the blade. What do you do?
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Rankev, you start ascending the stairs. They circle counter-clockwise around the old mill up to landing above.
Ariendel leads, you follow. Onick takes the rear.
Thick, ropey cobwebs droop down from the landing about 10 feet above you (that's where the wet smacking sound is the loudest).
You make it about half way when Onick puts his armoured feet through a bad plank. Although a Wizard and an Elf might be a light load, it looks like these decrepit old stairs couldn't bear the weight of a Paladin in armour!
He starts to waver, about to fall - you might be able to grab him if you act fast.
What do you do?
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Power's eyes go wide as the paladin begins to fall!
Doubting his own ability to help, Rankev summons a magical assistant!
"Concalo Servus!" he cries, calling upon his arcane power to aid where his weak flesh might not!
Unable to fully concentrate, the spell is wiped from his mind even as an ephemeral shadow forms in the air next to Onrick.
Alas! The servant can only grasp things handed to him. If Power can but touch Onrick's flailing finger, the Servant can carry him to safety!
Rankev reaches out, trying to touch the smallest part of the periled paladin!
So close! Power's fingers are but a hairsbreadth from the Paladin's hand as he begins to topple out of reach--
"There we are, lad," says Ariendel as the lithe fighter contorts around Power and aids his efforts.
As soon as Rankev's hand touches Onrick the floating Servant grasps him fully, exerting all its effort to help him keep his footing!
It's not even a question. Laguna grasps the blade.
Dragon's...why does that feel appropriate here?
Laguna, you feel the red hot steel of the sword and it hurts exactly like you expect it would. You take d6 damage, ignoring armour.
When you retract your hand the runes that were etched along the blade of the sword now appear mirrored and seared into your flesh. They glow with a strange fire, and as bright as if they were living fire. Curious.
The runes are as bright as torch, and hot to the touch.
Sarthel, you notice something shift in Laguna's aura. It previously felt like a dark pit of power, like staring down into an ancient well - deep, quiet, cold. Now it feels as if someone has lit a fire in the darkness, it's the dark of a dragon's den.
"We are resolved." says the Knight. "The blood between us is shed. The matter of the young-blood that you hath laid low... we will resolve tonight." She then brings forth a flask. She takes takes a swig and bares her teeth, hissing at the burn of it before passing it to Teren first, and then around the group.
Do you all partake?
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Rankev, in the instant Onick begins falling you whip into action. Ariendel leaps forth to prevent you both from falling down the mill, who in turn clings from the unseen servant. Unfortunately, you can't do it quietly.
The unseen servant reels the three of you in, it's merely a shade, but you detect a mote of disdain at the veritable clown show you've just enacted.
From above, you hear a sticky, sickly voice.
"Mlyerkkk, more.....more friends for Dolem? Mlyerrkkk... yesss."
Teren eyes the flask briefly before shrugging, and taking a drink. What's the worst that could happen? flashes through his head.
After he's found out the answer, he passes the flask on.
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"Eh? Who the devil is Dolem? I don't recall anyone by that name in the group! And I don't recall any gentleman by the name of Mlyerrkkk either! So you'd best come down! Come closer and let me get a good look at you. Oh, ah...here."
Rankev is beginning to become rather cross with whoever is making all the nonsense up there. If this is someone's idea of a joke, they shall find that wizards are not to be trifled with!
"By the Seven Staves of Athalos and the Twelve-Pointed Crown of Lord Doran the Phrowenian, I REBUKE thy darkness and all shall be revealed to me!"
He extends his hand and...
...a blazing sphere of brilliant yellow light forms in his hand, pushing back the dark!
Laguna looks over his burning hand, pondering the significance of the runes now etched onto his flesh. He looks at them for a moment before forgetting about it for now, and taking a swig from the flask as well.
Sarthel comes over to Laguna and says "Thank you Laguna, for taking on this blood debt for me - why did you do it? And, I sense a difference in you now, after holding the sword - as if a cold dark pit deep inside you has started to warm. Do you notice any difference?"
Ok, so I'm gearing up to pick up where Lichkicker left off.
To summarize the current events and outstanding issues :
Laguna, Sarthel, and Teren (and the refugees) are in the hut that Rankev had built, with the "the Knight", who has offered 'round a drink which Laguna and Teren have taken a swig of. The Blood Oath has been resolved, but not "the matter of the young-blood that you hath laid low."
Sarthel has asked Laguna a couple of questions.
Meanwhile, in the windmill, Rankev is in search of Lifegiver Varus. Rankev's near the top, where a stair just gave way under the Onick the Paladin, who was rescued by a joint effort between Rankev and Ariendel. But the noise they made seems to have awoken something in the very top of the mill.
Rankev created a magical light to see what's up there, and is pondering over the names of Dolem and Mlyerrkkk.
Have I missed anything? And please see Discussion for something else...
Ok, so let's get this thing going!
Laguna and Teren - you feel the alcoholic drink burn more than usual going down, and once it reaches your belly, you feel a warmth there that doesn't go away.
Laguna - how do you answer Sarthel's questions?
As darkness begins to fall, one of the children on guard duty outside comes in and reports seeing a lone figure in the distance. It appears to be heading towards you, not trying to hide.
What do you do?
Rankev - two things happen simultaneously : as your light spell goes off, the upper rafters in the windmill are brightly illuminated, and you see a *huge* spider nestled in the middle of its webs. Off to the side, you see a human-sized bundle completely wrapped up in webs.
And, upon seeing the spider, the name "Dolem" suddenly rings a bell - Dolem is an old spider-lord, a huge spider with human intelligence who likes to work behind the scenes, "pulling the strings" of organized society. Many people consider him just a myth, but you appear to be looking right at him...
What do you do?
Teren, on hearing the child's report, gives Laguna and the knight an inquisitive look, then asks the child to lead the way towards this figure.
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Rankev knows of this foe of old. On a handful of nights, when the loremaster was uncommonly deep in his cups, Rankev would steal into the Forbidden Section. There he read the uncensored history of the War of the Emerald Sword. Dolem was a common spider, raised to hero-status by Nekron, the Dark Lord, evil nemesis to Propoket the Many. Through bribery and terror, Dolem once marshaled all of the Dukes of Arbela to rise in rebellion against the High King Martel.
In unison with another operation conducted by Nekron's right-hand warlord, Lord Borak the Despoiler, upon the Plains of Hellen the army of traitors clashed with the Order of the White Dragon, men of unimpeachable valor and unending loyalty. Dolem's traitors turned the right wing, but a last, valiant charge by Propoket's Harbinger, Imrael himself, crushed Dolem's Black Spider Legion and sent the villain to flight.
His meddling has not been known in some time, so long that he was thought dead, felled by some wound he received in the retreat. Rankev's heart freezes at seeing so terrible a foe in the flesh. But all is not lost. Though a consummate player at politics, there was some doubt as to its personal prowess.
"I know you, Dolem the Vile! Dolem the Hungry! Dolem the pawn of Nekron the Fallen! Is that poor Varus you have there, caught in thy web? His loss shall not be for nothing! Leave us here and I shall consider letting you go unhindered, for many and much are my tasks this day! But if you think to tarry and harass us here, to build thyself again an empire to worry the world then BEGONE! I am no conjurer of cheap tricks! I am no weak-minded bureaucrat seeking a few more coppers to add to my personal donjon, or another handful of gold to enlarge my harem of mistresses!
I...
am Power!
So be off, and leave poor Varus. I shall see if I can revive him, and if so I shall forget this small transgression you commit. Go and find some simpering paper-pusher to tempt. You shall find naught here but thy DOOM!"