As you arrive at the village you can see the small circle of houses from your position on the wagons as you crest the hill just entering the outskirts of Grunshire. You can see that it is a quaint village that you could picture in a fairytale of some sort, however there is a line of stakes entrenched around the houses making a rough wooden palisade with armed men walking just behind it. This seems like a relatively new addition to the village and looks marginally unused. When the wagoner drops you off at the gates no one rushes out to greet you one guard merely jerks his thumb back indicating what seems to be a longhouse its chimney pouring out smoke as if in major use.
Gaeron waves farewell to the caravan one last time then adjusts the mace at his belt and nods at his companions who disembarked with him. "It would seem we have arrived my friends he says warmly and then salutes the guard who signaled them and then proceeds through the makeshift palisade towards the smoke-producing longhouse, biding a good day and fair weather to everyone he passed with a wide smile on his face and the amulet of the Waybringer dangling from his neck, shining even in the dimmed sunlight.
He walks up to the door of the longhouse and then waits for his companions to catch up to him.
Hermia feels a great deal of sorrow to have been parted from the smith with whom they traveled as he, with the caravan, will be continuing down another path.
In another age, perhaps we might have become friends, she muses as she gathers her things to her.
The village of Grunshire were her destination, however, and here it lay. It was a small, goodly appearing village, with recent additions to its defenses in the form of a palisades.
I wonder where they found the engineer? And the money to employ him... Another mercenary, perhaps? Or was this a local effort? Recognizing that she will not get answers standing and gaping like a fool, Hermia advances with Gaeron, picking up her steps to meet him.
"Not exceedingly friendly, are they?" she inquires when she meets him at the door of the log house. "Would you prefer I knocked? A friendly female face might elicit a much different response." she suggests with a smile.
Devin, his pack slung over his shoulder, surveys the situation as they progress to the Longhouse. He appears to be mumbling to himself as he sweeps his gaze along the defenses.
He turns to look at Hermia, "You can knock if you wish but I hope they are already expecting us. It obviously looks like they need the help. I just hope we are helpful enough. With this kind of setup, whatever they are fighting is big."
Once again Kynneth has become so self absorbed with his own thoughts he is running to catch-up to the others. As he rushes towards the longhouse, he takes in the newly constructed palisade and the grim looks on all the faces of the townspeople he passes. A great weight of fear, sadness and anger has settled over this place. He stumbles up the stairs, and smiles apologetically at Devin, whom he bumped into.
"So, here we are! Are you going in?"
"Hold on, before we just rush in maybe we should all get on the same page. I know what I was told we came for, but now that I see the situation I have a lot of questions. What exactly were each of you told going into this?"
"I was told that the town was under seige by outside forces and needed help defending itself. To be truthful, I did not really read much into it...I was...ummm...looking for any reason to get out into the world." He looks a little sheepish at this weak explaination.
Hermia considers her companions for a few moments. She smiles shyly at Kynneth, and gestures for them to come away from the long house while they speak.
"I have several thoughts," she begins. "I heard only the rumors that this village was under siege, and that it's leadership had sent out a call for mercenaries to come to its defense. I thought only for the community. I find it a blessing that each of you are so agreeable, but it was just as likely that the mercenaries that arrived here," Hermia pauses and smiles shyly, "the mercenaries that may very well still be traveling here may not be of a quality that would benefit this community."
Hermia looks to the palisades, the guards patrolling the village. "It stands to reason that these young men are of the community here. They have a vested interest in protecting these houses, their family and friends, their livelihoods. A mercenary has only the promise of gold.
"Look about you. This village is small, do you believe that they can make good on their promises? Or..." Hermia trails, frowning as darker possibilities come to mind.
"The thing is, this situation doesn't add up with anything I've been told. Who, or what, ever is hitting this town is hitting it hard. And I don't see any reason that someone would go so hard after such a small target. If they have anything worth stealing, and if they can afford to both build a wall and offer "rewards fit for a king" to defend it then why does the town look so... quaint?" Turning back from the group to Hermia, "And look, I'm sorry to wreck your idealized notions, but I am here for the money. I don't have any reason to want this place burned down or these people put to the sword, but I also didn't come here out of some sense of duty. I'm going to work just as hard as everyone else to complete our mission. In the end I need the money, plain and simple."
Hermia nods grimly when Devin confirms her worst suspicions. "Aye, Master Cross," she says softly. "And do not worry for my account. I will afford you the courtesy of believing you incapable of committing the atrocities that I have come here to prevent," she warns coolly.
Hermia places a smile on her face, one that appears quite practiced, with the air of routine of pretending at serenity in pressure, not wholly uncommon among priests. "I believe that my views on religion and faith have lead you to adopt a false impression of me, perhaps that my time at the temple has made me simple, or blind to the ways of the world. I am a defender of the community first and foremost. If that means coming to blows, I have passion, courage, and the grace of my good Lord Erastil to aide me," she continues, her voice flat and hard. "Violence is not the first option, however. I have a eyes, a capable mind, and can be quite persuasive should the occasion arise.
"But you are correct in one thing, I care not for the profits. So long as my needs are tended to, I will be happy with whatever this community can afford to lend me for my efforts."
"And I didn't mean to imply that you were simple or blind to the world. I only wanted to be upfront with you about who I was and what I'm here for. I assume that you would prefer honesty to me allowing you to believe things by omission. As for tactics, I also believe violence is the last and worst option, but I try to be realistic about it's likeliness. I can only assume that if there were a non-violent option they would have already tried it. And only in failing that did they send out the call for help that we have all responded to."
Gaeron glances down at the grim-faced crossbowman Cross and then nods, swelling his broad chest and placing a hand on the haft of his heavy mace. "Whatever their troubles, they shall find us ready and capable to defend them against any evil. It is our duty, for the strong to defend the weak, to uphold justice and to deliver the downtrodden from their plights." He presses his fist to the medallion about his neck then gives each of his companions a deep bow.
"If I may say so, it is an honor to share the battlefields of the future with thine. Gaeron Abraxus at your services. Now come, let us find out what plagues these innocents." And with that he lifts a fist and knocks three times on the door to the house, then stands back respectfully for the master of the house to open it and invite them in, as common courtesy demands.
A balding portly man opens the door, he wears some sort of amulet around his neck, you take it as a badge of office. His friendly voice betrays him however when he takes a look at your group and you can see he was expecting....a little bit more.
"Oh my do come in, you must be the first group coming in, thank you all for comming. Come in come in, the wind you see. Dreadfully cold, this time of year, Ill put on a pot of mulled cider then we shall talk more."
The older man bustles about the long house which looks rather spacious and well built to your eyes. It is fulled with multiple tables and a bar towards the back and you can smell something cooking near a door which you take as the kitchen and the old man quickly disappears inside and you catch a quick glance into the kitchen.
"Thank you, good sir." As he flows inside with the rest of the party, Devin surveys the interior looking for any other doors or entrances. He also takes note of the other people in the room and their probable professions.
Gaeron bows to their host respectfully then hurries over to a chair and holds it out for Hermia for her to sit down. His instincts as a gentleman were overbearing, having been almost beaten into him by his foster-father at the Abbey. There was no ulterior motive to his friendliness, he had done the same for nearly any woman he met and conversed with, especially one he agreed so much with when it came to moral choices or the defense of the helpless.
"Thank you Brother Abraxus," Hermia says politely as she assumes the seat that Gaeron holds out for her. It has never been the particular way of her community, and the gesture seems somewhat awkward as she is more than capable of seating herself, but she accepts his kindness.
Odd that the village head should also be its cook, Hermia muses as the large man disappears into the kitchen, but after a quick glance at Master Cross, says nothing. She had not come for monetary gain, and she did not wish to know what might be going through the mercenary's mind at this moment.
Likely the profits promised were expected in exchange for any treasures the mercenaries were able to lift from them that they killed, she continues, and folds her hands gracefully on the table, and waits patiently for the head's return.
Kynneth wanders in and starts to examine the room. He looks at the chairs, the table, bar...just about anything he can see, without leaving the main hall area. He keeps his eye on their host, but he also makes a through examination of the building.
The man comes bustling back in laden with a loaf of bread and an arm full of tankards accompanied by a stout woman that seems to be the cook and the mans wife.
"Welcome welcome as I say again. Here's your drinks and a loaf of bread made by my wife here."
The man settles down at a seat around the table you have taken seats at. He then introduces himself as Mayor Heimen. He explains the call for help as being related to the recent activity of orcs seen out in the mountains as well as people have been going missing, mostly folks from outlying farms but always after they came to town and then left towards the evening. Shapes have been seen walking about at night and has put most of the folks into a fright.
"Do forgive the people for being gruff, we usually are a content lot but this recent string of events has got everyone in a sour mood. To say mildly. Also...about your pay. We have some money for the upfront but when you have proven yourselves the rest will be forthcoming. I know that is what your interested in at the present. But please im rambling share your thoughts with me. Afterwards you can go about the town and see the shops youll have a free room for the night. that is unless you wish to get started right away?"
Gaeron bows his head to the mayor and smiles warmly at the large, rotund man. "Worry not about our pay until we have rid you of your troubles. Otherwise, how will we have earned it? I myself will be inspecting the town with your permission. But first, what else can you tell us of these orcs? Or of the disappearing villagers and strange shapes in the night?"
Devin sits quietly and listens to the mayor's story, while slowly sipping his drink. "Fair enough, but Gaeron is right, we need more details if we are going to be helpful. Is there anyone else you suggest we talk to about these 'problems'?"
Hermia licks her lips and considers the situation. Persons living outside the limits of the town disappearing in the night... Why have they not all been gathered for their safety? Surely, once one saw the palisades being built, they would come immediately? She listens carefully as Gaeron asks his questions concerning the threat of violence, but others prey upon her mind.
"My Lord Mayor, you said that these orcs were threatening your farmlands, and your little folk are disappearing in the night. How much food have you remaining to feed your people?" she asks. "Are the waterways secure? Where is your priest? Has he an accurate count of who remains?" she asks. When she recognizes that she is pushing her agenda perhaps too vocally she flushes and backs down slightly. "Pray, beg your pardon, sirs, I had the thought if we are at siege, these are questions which we must have answers to as well."
"Since it is lunch time, perhaps you could invite some of your town leaders and we could talk to them over a meal. I would like to meet whom ever is in charge of your local guards. Also, as Hermia said, you local clergy could answer some important questions as well."
Kynneth sits down after exploring the room and drinks his ale and eats some bread. He listens to the others talk. Orcs!, he thinks, I cannot wait to meet a real-life orc! But why are they taking people? Slaves? Food? Hmmm.... He sits back, gets comfortable and waits to hear the answers to the excellent questions his companions are asking.
The portly mayor blinks at the deluge of questions you all ask of him and he begins to sweat slightly under the pressure. He pauses and then beings to speak.
"The orcs are just rocs I have no idea, some trappers came through and just let us know that they had seen signs of orcs again. There was a battle sometime ago when the good king fell and saved the land from the orc horde. The orcs retreated and hid in the mountains west of here. They have never reappeared these past 50 years. Until now that is. We do not know if it is orcs attacking our small folk or something else. We never find any signs of them, just blood. And anyone who ventures out past dark never returns. You can talk to our blacksmith Durag, or the apothecary I suppose, we have no one person that runs the guards just the townsfolk that can be spared from the fields. We might have a months supply of food dear lady, but we cannot just abandon our livelihoods here or the taxes will starve us as surely as not having food. As for our priest...." The mayors tone saddens and his lively face falls.
"Our priest was the first to dissapear, all we found was some brown cloth and blood....so much blood. He was heading out to the cemetery just to the southwest.
He then wipes his face with his hands, you all can sense the priest was a good friend to him and he misses him deeply. but he looks up in surprise to Devin's last question about lunch. "Goodsir we cant pull the farmers out from the crops, like I said you can talk to Durag or the apothecary or possibly Colby, he I suppose is the one who saw to organizing the barricade when it started, other than that we are at your mercy. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go bring food to the farmers." he gets up and leaves you all with a bow of his head letting you all talk amongst yourselves till you see what is the best course of action.
Hermia rises with the mayor, wishing to go with him and properly identify herself and ease his burden, but she recognizes that her greatest use to him at this moment is to remain beside her companions, and come to an agreement which of his burdens they could alleviate first.
"Their priest was the first to fall," Hermia highlights. "Know you orcs that are organized and disciplined enough to take only the priest in a raid?" she asks. "Or so intelligent to lay in wait in a cemetery to do him ill?
Hermia shakes her head. "For myself I believe that it is of premier importance that we investigate the priest's former lodgings to see if he left behind any evidence of what compelled him to go to the cemetery that night. Together with reports of figures moving about in the darkness and persons disappearing and leaving nothing but blood... If it were perpetrated by orcs, would they not also leave evidence of raiding?"
Gaeron's eyes widen at these accounts and his noble blood burns to avenge all the fallen villagers, especially the vanished priest. He nods along with Hermia's questions, finding due amount of logic and wit in her and his companions' words. For his part, he casts a glance outside, eyes hardening as if to peer through the village and spot just who was terrorizing these poor folk so badly and abducting or killing so many outlying farmers.
He turns to Hermia and bows his head in a tiny bow. "A sound idea milady. Should we split up to search the town for more evidence of other vanished villagers or stick together?"
"OK, we can start at the priest's house. But before nightfall we need to discuss the state of these defenses with someone. If no one is overseeing them, then things are going to go badly if the are actually needed." Devin raises his arm, getting the attention of a passing waitress. "Lunch, if you would please, what ever you have on the fire to go with our bread will be fine. Thanks" Turning himself back to the group, and seeing their unappreciative looks, "I don't remember hunger being a great battle strategy. It's going to be a late night and since we have no idea what will be going on at dinner time, I suggest we all eat now. As for Gaeron's question, I don't think we should split up unless necessary. We are still just getting information and until we have something to base a plan on we should do it together."
Kynneth moves over to the table where the others are located. "I agree with Hermia. It seems strange that the only divine protection in the town was taken first. But Devin is also correct that we should eat. 'Stoking the fire makes the forge burn hotter' or something like that, I believe was a saying in our city.. he mubbles the last part as the rest of the group stare at him.
"I understand your concerns, Master Cross. As that is your greatest concern, and I doubt that investigating the priest's lodgings will require me to bring a guard," Hermia replies. "In fact, it should be a great deal easier for myself as a priestess to avoid any... negative connotations from outsiders prying into their daily lives."
Hermia smiles at Devin. "If you might, could you learn who instructed the men to build the palisades? If they've an engineer, I should like to learn his name. I have only rudimentary knowledge of the science, but I should think that he would be an asset to us in the long term."
Conceding to the words of his companions, as well as a small rumble from his stomach, Gaeron smiles and nods at Kynneth to set the man more at ease and he pulls up a seat next to the religious man. "My foster-father always used to say, 'Feed the body, strengthen the mind.'. Very well my friends, I could stand a moment's repaste to enjoy some sustenance. So tell me Kynneth...what do you know of magic?" He drops his voice to a lower tone meant only for the other man.
Continuing to talk as the food is brought, "Alright, I will seek out the Blacksmith and this Colby to ask about the construction. I would also like to find out more about these trappers that saw the Orc signs. I really wonder what drew them to such a conclusion. As for the apothecary, I would like to talk to him but don't want to do it alone. I need someone with some knowledge of it to go with me. Which of you two," motioning to Gaeron and Kynneth, "knows more about alchemy?"
Kynneth smiles at Gaeron's words and starts to babble, "Magic is my lifes blood, my being and, dare I say, my religion. I came to my powers as a child and was taught by tutors, but I have not actually 'used' my abilities, except in strictly controlled tests!" Before he can continue he hears Devin ask about alchemy. "I am very sorry. I have no training in this area. My tutors always said that I had real power, and playing with potions was a delution of the craft, a poor man's wizardry, as it were."
Looking back up at Devin he gives the ranger a questioning look and shakes his head. "Not I, my teachings were all of sermons and of how to defend myself in combat. I can...do other things as well but I must apologize, i know not of alchemy. Methinks my hands are too big" he jests, not eager to enter into a conversation about his magical abilities, since he himself did not entirely understand them.
"Alright, then who wants to go with me? If we are splitting up, we should at least stay in pairs. We can meet back up here when we're done. Just everyone make sure not to leave the inside of the barricade, even as a pair. I know that so far all the attacks were at night, but something important changed today so we can't count on that history to hold."
"Your advice is sound, and well received Master Cross. Kynneth, might you accompany him on his endeavors? My apologies, but if I am to be alone, I would prefer to have a strong arm beside me in the event that we are overcome. I have very little defense of my own, and I do believe that Master Cross is capable of defending you in several ways." Hermia says and smiles.
"Unless of course, either of you object to splitting our melee talent thusly... I thought it the soundest manner of division. And Kynneth, you were eager to learn more of the world. I do believe staying beside Master Cross will give you a new perspective, I know that he has provided such for me."
"Devin, my name is Devin. I've never been anyone's 'Master'." as he returns her smile.
Gaeron swells at Hermia's acknowledgement of his strength and he bows very deeply, standing up from his chair to do so. "It will be my honor to defend you milady." he says and then reseats himself to finish eating, making polite conversation with his companions. Then, once having finished his plate of modest but wholesome food, after thanking their hostess, he turns to look at Hermia again.
"Pardon me Milady Robin, but I wonder if you might indulge a question of mine? You are a servant to your chosen god yes, both in and out of battle? What sort of powers, being such a servant to the gods, are granted to you? I have lived with Paladins and clerics all my life, but I never thought to pose this question to them."
As always, Gaeron never sees himself as a simple monk or, if his magiclal abilities grow, as a mage. He has a fierce love for martial practices and battle, and if he might combine this with his fervor to Apsu upon the field of combat, he believes he will finally discover his true calling. A mental image of him, clad in shimmering plate armor, wielding a sword, flashes into his mind, making him swell slightly. It looks and felt right to Gaeron.
"My apologies, M-Devin," Hermia replies and grants him a salute before returning to her seat as well. "Within the temple, it is required that we identify those upon whom we depend as such, as a manner of honoring them for their contribution to our keep. We are taught not to take any contribution, however small, for granted." she explains for his benefit.
Hermia appears slightly guilty as she eats what has been brought for them, knowing that what remains of their food is so little, and so hard won. Given that, however, this meal that they are eating is worth the sum of a king's ransom, and it would be exceedingly rude not to accept their hospitality. Besides which, she was quite hungry.
Hermia wipes her mouth decorously and takes a small sip of the drink offered to clear her palate before answering Gaeron's question. "Lord Erastil grants me the power to channel His holy might to heal, and also to destroy undead abominations," Hermia tells him. "I am not so great a spellcaster as some of my contemporaries, but they are not as knowledgeable as I am. I cannot fail to prepare the most basic of magics to bolster my allies ability to combat evil, and my touch can remove a number of minor afflictions like fatigue and dizziness."
"Yes indeed, I look forward to assisting Devin. I also have a very considerable store of religious teachings, if that could be of some help." Kynneth looks over to Devin, an almost puppy-like glee in his eyes.
As everyone is finishing their meal, Devin waves the waitress over again. "The mayor mentioned that we would have rooms made available. Can you ask if we may stow our traveling gear in them now? Thank you." Turning back to his companions, "We should get started once we put up our stuff. I think the blacksmith should be easy to find, I'm hoping he knows where Colby is. Once you two find the priest's house, be sure to talk to any of the villagers nearby. I'm curious if their stories match the Mayor's version. And remember, we are only the first group to arrive. And as Hermia said, we have no idea who will answer the call for help. So be careful, they may see us as competition."
"Agreed," Hermia acknowledges with a nod. "Although my kit is not so disagreeable to me, and I do not know what part of it I may need with me in my endeavors, so I will keep it with me. Might I ask, Brother Kynneth, if, while you speak to others, you might advertise that there is a priestess recently come to town. Er... discretely, if you please. I wish it to be known so that if there are any in need that I might see them, but... if this is orcs and they are well informed..."
Kynneth give a quick, short bow to Hermia. "I will do so, with alacrity." He then hurries to store his pack, taking only his mace and contents of his beltpouch with him. He is quickly waiting at the door for Devin to arrive.
Gaeron waits patiently for Hermia, mace strapped to his belt and nothing else with him save his amulet. He smiles and watches out the door, enjoying the calm serenity of day, despite the hurried nature of the peasants outside and the overbearing prescense of evil plauging everyone's minds. He touches the head of his mace, swearing a silent oath to personally purge whatever shadows casting their dark influence over these simple folk.
Glancing back at Hermia, he smiles and enjoys simply waiting for her to join him by the door. "So as far as I understand milady, we will be heading first to the vanished priest's domicile, and then to...?" he lets the question lead off, content to simply follow and provide her his aid however he can.
"To the graveyard. In the sunlight," Hermia answers. "I wish to examine the graves. And if there is time, we will also introduce ourselves to the apothecary."
Devin comes down from stowing his pack and finds Kynneth waiting, "Let's go see if we can find this blacksmith. If he's working we should see the smoke from his forge." And he heads out the door, into the village.
Kynneth follows Devin out the door and immediately starts to scan the sky for telltale smoke.
Hermia would flush to admit it, but there was more than one reason why she preferred to have Gaeron beside her for this task. The young man's large frame was likely to be better received among the locals than Kynneth's high and awkward speech. Without his holy symbol, Gaeron might have been any other young man here, she suspected, until he opened his mouth. Hermia intended to preempt his speech, actively engaging any citizen that crossed her path, interviewing them as to their situation at first, informing them of her abilities as a healer, and finally asks after the former priest, his name and the location of his lodgings.
Hermia's Diplomacy .
As they walk about town towards the priest's abandoned home, Gaeron smiles widely, bowing his head to any whose path they cross, bidding them Apsu's blessings and a fair harvest. He keeps close to Hermia, his large frame towering over nearly everyone but not in the intimidating sort.
Diplomacy Assist: