Kast continues to drag Qelb outside.
Soldiers rescue.
Chrystosm continues to assist wherever needed, aiding Kast (if necessary) in his attempt to get Qelb to safety.
"Can't we just chuck a bucket of water at it? Or open the door so the fire blows out?"
Seeing his friends struggling to drag the body outside, Simon lends a hand. "Hurry friends, let us get away from this building quickly!"
As the party drags the worker and Qelb from the building the furnace roars then explodes. The raging inferno of metal and wooden shrapnel spits needle sharp slivers out the doors, several pieces nearly missing members of the party. Moments later, the dance of flames can be seen filling the inside of the mill.
People pour out of buildings to stare a the mill goes up in flames. The volunteer brigade concentrates not on the mill, but on the buildings around it, making sure it doesn't spread.
Kast rushes to help the fire brigade, lending a hand.
Kast will create water as well, trying to fill buckets (or spray directly on) until the fire is defeated.
Othoe considers a back fire with burning hands and spark spells, but decides that would likely not work the way he intended. Instead he does his best to stay out of the way of those with skill or strength.
He guards over the two wounded mill workers instead. He binds, as best he can, Qelb with any rope he can find nearby having none of his own. Failing that, he'll take Qelbs shirt off and tie his hands with that.
Nimeon nods grimly back at Thaldrin before moving to help save the other buildings.
Now what is that about?
"Sit on Qelb, literally, dead or not, don't let that body get away! There will be questions and he's the answer the town needs!" With that Simon turns to the blaze, using Create Water at will until the flames are settled. He'll rush to where any homes or other building of the town may be threatened and keep those safe as a first priority, then proceed forward on the effort of putting out the blazing mill.
Kast and Simon cast create water over and over again, while other townsfolk pass buckets back and forth, trading off the front lines when necessary. Dorial watches for stray sparks, blowing them back into the fire as she can.
Several workers and family members of workers need to be restrained to keep them from running into the building. Thaldrin's men serve this purpose well, though their methods are rough enough to knock at least one person out rather than let them in to the flames.
As Othoe ties up the bodies, he realizes that they're beyond help, at least any he is capable of administering. Qelb's body is covered in welts and boils, some still slowly oozing as one by one they pop from the rough handling. The other worker, someone identifies him as Trelman, does not have the same sores, though a vivid scarab brand blackens the once tender skin of his foot.
Chrystosm assists with he firefighting, either forming part of a bucket brigade or helping to knock down nearby buildings to ensure that the fire doesn't spread
Though the everyone in town, and especially the heroes, work their hardest to protect the other buildings and put out the fire, three buildings take damage, including Yerstyl's home. The lumber warehouse is hit several times by flying sparks, but through the tireless efforts of the entire town, they are doused before they can catch.
The man stands by himself casting create water over and over again on the tree that stands beside the charred wreckage of his little shack.
Othoe doesn't follow Simons' commands to the letter, but he does guard the bodies all night - he does not sit on them however.
Not knowing how else he can help, he spends a worried and tiresome night doing more or less nothing.
Hero indeed.
In the morning, before the party goes for refreshments after the long night, he asks, "So what do we mean to do with these bodies? I may not have done much to aid with the fire, but I would also like some breakfast and rest - and ideally without my night-time companions." Othoe grins.
He points out the branding on Trelman's foot. "They were two of a kind, so no weeping over their deaths. It's too bad we cannot investigate the mill further to find out who gave these two their orders."
"Wait until it cools, then we can go over the wreckage. You never know, we might pick up something we missed before, even if it is a bit scorched."
He glances over at Yerstyl.
"Poor fellow. Should we go over and see if he's alright, or would that be pouring oil on the fl... No. That'd be completely the wrong thing to say"
If anybody does want to offer Yerstyl their commisserations, Chrystosm will go with them and offer (silent) support. If not, he'll just help bury the bodies and tidy up.
"One last task friends, before we enjoy our food and rest. Let us drag these bodies to the town square and show the good people of Falcon's Hollow the cause of both the plague and the fire." Wrapping cloth around the leg of Qelb, Simon starts the slow process of dragging the body, along the way telling anyone still about that Qelb has been responsible for the evil in town. Simon asks those people to bring their family and friends to the square to hear what has befallen the Hollow.
Othoe helps Simon shift the bodies and props them up near the well. But not in it!
He'll stand silently a little ways off while the speeches take place and study the gathering crowd. Is there anyone there who is angry or not surprised? IE, I'm looking for someone who might have known all along...
Wow, look at all the people! Too bad I can't see anyone in this crowd. Damn it's hard being short sometimes. I should have climbed a tree or something to get a decent look. Ahh well, at least I can still hear Simon so I'll know when it's over.
Simon addresses the people gathered at the well. "Friends and Neighbors, look upon these lost souls and know the tragedy they have brought to our town. See the mark of Urgathoa on this man. The furnace at the mill was a cleaver ploy to spread the ashes of plague among us. We must return to the old ways of harvesting the Darkwood, the ways brought to us by Yerstyl's father. The wood must be stripped under water and the bark taken to the woods to age and decompose. We can do this, we can restore our town to what it was before these troubles befell us." Simon pitches his plea to the folks of Falcon's Hollow.
Part of Kast's mind frees itself to work on the problems at hand while his body works through the repetitions of the fire fight. While slogging buckets and casting Irori's orisons, Kast works through the events that lead to this encounter.
Urgothoa.
Goddess of Disease.
Qelb. Her Priest.
What now?
Kast smiles as the last tendrils of flame go away, certain of his next step should be.
Pray to Irori to heal his wounds.
Make me perfect, Irori, so that I might follow your example.
Healing
Secondly, Kast will grab a lumber worker.
"You. Where is Qelb's quarters? Where does he bunk?"
Othoe watches the crowd but it is hard to tell their thoughts seeing only the backs of Simon's knees as he moves back and forth. Still, he's pretty sure there was a dog on the far corner, glaring his way. At least, he thought it was a dog, but when he looks back, it is an old beggar man, his bedraggled hair hanging in his face.
***********************
The crowd, tired and restless and angry hangs on Simon's every word. A mutter rolls through and the crowd searches for a target for its anger.
"Give us the bodies!" A voice calls from the back. Another takes it up, "Burn the Bodies!" and then another, "Burn them! Back to the old ways, burn the bodies, burn the mill, burn the town!
**************
On the other side of the commons, an exhausted worker eyes Kast carefully. "At the mill. He had an office and personal rooms in the loft space. It'll be some time before any of that is cool enough to go through, though."
Simon shakes his head in disappointment and walks away as the crowd turns violent. To his companions, "Friends, that was the best speech I could possibly give, it seems my words can't help. If these idiots decide to burn the town down then at least let us enjoy one last mug of ale at the Sitting Duck before we have to find a new home." With that the dejected Simon shuffles off towards the comforts of the tavern.
Kast listens to Simon's speech and smiles.
That's telling them, crazyone. Now, don't mention the magic kettle and we should be fine.
Kast startles when he hears talk of fire and burning and gathers his bardiche should it be necessary to confront such crazy talk.
"What the heck? How did that start?"
Kast looks around to make sure none of the talk turns to action.
Soldiers guard.
Dorial greets Simon and Othoe, having just made her way to the well,
"If burning the town is the best they can come up with then who am I to stop them. Now, if they would like our assistance further, then I would suggest that we help them set up a new mill with the proper stripping methods in mind."
She ponders for a bit before turning to Kast, "Sir Kast,is there anything that you can tell us about the god that Qelb worshiped? If in fact there is a cult here that is bent on spreading disease, then I would like to put our best efforts into rooting them out first."
The town grumbles, but calmer voices and exhaustion from fighting the fire prevail. "Tomorrow, we'll talk about the mill tomorrow. Right now, unless you've burns for me to see, everyone should go home." In clumps and one by one, the villagers return to their homes. A few stop by to see Laurel, most injuries are very minor, though there are a few that would need careful watching for infection over the next several weeks.
A couple of the people from the church come to claim the bodies, though they are uncertain what to do with them. "tis possible the very ground will reject them." one mutters quietly.
Approaching those who've come to collect the bodies, Nimeon looks them over for any of the signs he missed before.
"Do you know if they had family?"
An older woman, her hair completely gray, straightens at the sound of his voice. Slowly she turns, "To ones such as these, it wouldn't matter, Nimeon. Evil is its own family." She sighs sadly. Time, or worry, has etched deep lines upon her cheeks, but she smiles and reaches up, brushing Nimeon's cheek with a feather light touch. "But no, I don't think they had family in town. None that they saw, at any rate."
"Right then. Take the bodies and see if the ground will take them. If not, burn them in a purifying flame."
Othoe, satisfied he guarded the bodies to some purpose, heads off to find some breakfast.
"Anybody want to join me for some breakfast? I imagine we're all a little famished after last nights activities."
"Today's great thought" replies Chrystosm, happily. "After that, I'm going to try and find El - er, Hollin. His name's Hollin"
He repeats the name to himself two or three times, looking more and more forlorn each time he does so.
"I wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to see me at all, but I've got to try. Poor little sod - I know what it's like to have everybody picking on you."
Kast responds to Dorial when he gets a moment's breath.
"Disease and gluttony and evil. Urgothoa is not to be trifled with...and if the entire town died in pustules and pestilence, she would dance happily. This was clearly her work here. I'm glad to have helped fight it."
Kast nods sadly as he realizes there isn't much more to do here, tonight and food might be best.
"Yeah, food," Kast says as he belly rumbles. "It's been a long night."
Kast makes sure to gather his bardiche and remaining pieces of the unholy symbol before following Othoe and Chrysto for food.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised that an unholy presence was at work with the plague. Duh. It was too organized to be natural.
The Sitting Duck lays quiet, the companions, Fleur and Eli the only people returning for breakfast. There is food, cold slabs of meat from the day before on day old bread, but it is hearty. A smoke smudged Fleur offers up gravy to dip it in if you'll wait, otherwise it will have to do as it sits.
"I can't help but feel we failed in some way. There must be more at work here."
Nimeon chews his food with the mechanical precision the mill will no longer display.
Kast goes and sits and eats.
"Now what? Othoe? What do we do now? Do you hunk we got all of Urgathoa's influence here, Simon? Dorial? What next?"
"We lost at least one follower, the bugs distracted us. We'll need to find him."
"Do we know it was a follower? Just because they worked in the mill doesn't mean they were evil. We only know these two for sure."
"Still, it is a good place to start. Let us track down the other mill workers and question them. ...and examine their feet for branding."
That had to hurt.
Othoe shakes his head at the things people do for religion.
"We should also see what it so be done about building a new mill. If we get involved early, perhaps we can sway the new proprietor to keep to the fey code."
What about resting? When will we do that huh smart guy?
"I would most certainly like to find any more followers and eliminate them. Stopping the spread of any more plague is my top priority."
She takes a bite of some old bread and spends a little while chewing it before swallowing and carrying on, "I agree somewhat with Othoe about investigating some of the remaining workers, but I wouldn't want to spend too long on that before helping set up a new mill." She turns to Simon and Nimeon, "Do either of you know if Qelb kept residence in the town or did he live out of the mill? If the former, then I also suggest we check there as soon as possible, in case he wasn't the head conspirator in town."
"Maybe we should talk to Yerstyl again, find out what he knows about his father's departure, that could be the beginning of the cult's influence." Simon eats heartily, washing the breakfast down with ale. Between bites, and during them with a full mouth at times, he continues, "and we should probably speak with Kreed again, for all the selfishness of the man, I'm still unsure that he had any part in the plague. I don't think he would have risked his own family, Othoe was there when we treated his boy and that was real emotion on the man's face, but we will need his support if we're to continue operating freely in this town to ferret out the evil." Pulling the putrid green gem from his pocket, Simon holds it out for the others to see. "I recovered this from one of the roaches that we dispatched, perhaps it offers a clue to who, or what, may be the source of the evil?"
**************
The gem, dark green with sick, pus-green symbols and letters sliding just beneath the surface, vibrates visibly in Simon's palm. If touched, the symbols tremble and slip, left, right, or disappear into the depths of the gem, to surface again in a few moments.
An older woman, her hair completely gray, straightens at the sound of his voice. Slowly she turns, "To ones such as these, it wouldn't matter, Nimeon. Evil is its own family." She sighs sadly. Time, or worry, has etched deep lines upon her cheeks, but she smiles and reaches up, brushing Nimeon's cheek with a feather light touch.
Kast reflects over the events while he drinks his morning cider...a memory comes to mind.
"Was that your mom, Nimeon? She looked like she was once beautiful. Was that her?" Kast sips again.
"What about your dad? Was your dad there too?"
* * *
* * *
"Qelb lived in the mill, Dorial. I asked. His place was burned up. Strange how the fire destroyed most of any evidence we could have found."
Kast lifts another morsel of food to his face.
"It's possible that we slew the head priest of the town...as you all felt, he channeled much unholy power. He might have been it. Maybe."
Simon peers at the gem curiously. "Look how the symbols sink into it then rise back to the surface, maybe it's a fortune telling gem and we can ask it questions? Oh sickly gem, does Fleur think Kast is cute?" Simon gives the gem a shaking then watches to see what symbol rises to the surface.
"Does it matter Kast? You ask many questions, are you not a teacher, do you not know the answers to things?"
He asks too many questions about my father.
****
"As Kast says, to the best of my knowledge he lived at the mill. I am long out of town and current events are not a specialty of mine. I'm sorry."
****
"I do not think you should play with that Simon. It is a tool of evil and we should destroy it. No good can possibly come of it."
And it is not one of your pets.
Kast spits his cider back in his mug at Nimeon's outburst.
What did I do wrong? Was that his dad and not his mom?
Kast's eyes bulge.
"Sorry, Nimeon...I didn't mean anything by that. I'm tired...it's been a long day. I didn't get a look at her/him. I didn't meant to insult your dad or your mum."
Kast puts down his cider. "Can I get you a drink, Nimeon?"
"What, you think Jimmy is evil?" Simon looks curiously again at the gem. "Perhaps you are right, Nimeon, I'll trust you to do the right thing with it." Simon hands the sickly gem to Nimeon.
Simon peers at the gem curiously. "Look how the symbols sink into it then rise back to the surface, maybe it's a fortune telling gem and we can ask it questions? Oh sickly gem, does Fleur think Kast is cute?" Simon gives the gem a shaking then watches to see what symbol rises to the surface.
”Of course not, Master Simon. What a thing to say!” Though blushing furiously, the young barmaid is not one to be done in by a little teasing, and gives a grin before continuing, “Cute is for kittens. Men are handsome, dashing, or heroic.”
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"And why can't kittens be handsome, dashing or heroic, too?", demands Chrystosm. "Mind you, it's a full time job. Terrible strain being a swashbuckling heart-throb all year round".
He simpers, tossing his head and smoothing back his hair, forgetting as he does so that he's holding a chunk of gravy-soaked stale bread in the same hand.
"Yeuch!"
Nimeon sighs heavily.
"That was my mother Kast. We are not on good terms, and my father does not live in town. He lives with nature."
Refusing to touch the gem Nimeon motions towards the table.
"We must smash this, but not here. As much as I hate to say it we should probably take it to my father."
"And why can't kittens be handsome, dashing or heroic, too?", demands Chrystosm. "Mind you, it's a full time job. Terrible strain being a swashbuckling heart-throb all year round".
He simpers, tossing his head and smoothing back his hair, forgetting as he does so that he's holding a chunk of gravy-soaked stale bread in the same hand.
"Yeuch!"
"That sounds like an awful big burden to put on a poor wee kitten, Master Chrystosm." She bites back a giggle, dabbing at the top of Chrystosm's head as she would any other spill. "No best to save that for the strapping soldiers and brave adventurers. Kittens have enough to do with their days, sleeping and playing and chasing things. Being Cute is a full time job too... for a kitten."
Eyeing the gem where it falls between Simon and Nimeon, the young woman sobers. "I'll leave you to your business, then." she tries to smile but her eyes keep straying to the ugly gem in the middle of the table. Tracing a spiral over her her heart, she scurries off, leaving the heroic to deal with such things.
"Well the mill ran at nearly triple the efficiency with the new model over the old, so we'll still need to convince the powers of this village that efficiency was the cause of the plague."
Othoe finishes his breakfast having waited for the gravy.
"Now, let us question the former mill workers. Not all 400 - but I do want to talk to the few who were working when the fire broke out. I'd like to ask each of them to show us the bottoms of their feet if we can, but we should also have an eye out for a possible replacement as head of the millworks."
Kast yawns, extending his arms in a big loop...trying to listen to Nimeon and Othoe.
"How long has it been since we last slept? 30 hours? 40 hours?"
"Maybe we should rest up and meet again this afternoon. I feel fatigued...and I'm probably not thinking straight."
Kast looks at the group.
"Maybe we nap up, then go up to the Mill and talk through some things. Nimeon...you mentioned your father...where he he live? I know I'm not supposed to ask questions...but maybe you could fill in some details? Should we or you go there tomorrow?"
"Sleep", announces Chrystosm, "Is for the weak", moments before collapsing in a snoring heap on the table.
Kast yawns, extending his arms in a big loop...trying to listen to Nimeon and Othoe.
"How long has it been since we last slept? 30 hours? 40 hours?"
While Othoe did spend the night on guard duty rather than active duty, it was still a night lost. He'll head back to Simons and nap until late afternoon unless rousted earlier. He'll forgo the spell scribing he had planned for yesterday/today and does not change his prepared spells.
Weapon Equipped = none
Conditions = none
Arcane Bond = none
Force Missile = 6/6
Wizard Spells Remaining:
0) Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Ray of Frost*, Spark
1) Burning Hands*, Comprehend Languages, Magic Missile w/Topple*
Once awake - still stiff and a little sore from the prior evenings combat and lack of proper sleep - Othoe will go looking for the other members of the group to plan our next steps, preferably over another meal.
Kast finishes his breakfast and stands.
"I'm tired. I'll see you all at the mill in 9 hours? We investigate the remains and see if anyone knows anything, eh?"
Kast will get a room from Fleur...I assume he can get one for a reasonable rate and sleep therein.
Kast will go to the mill or meet with others after resting.