Gavin looks over and up to Miles, "You saw it too then? Strange, wasn't it? Did you happen to visit the fortune teller today at all?"
"It was a bright ball of light during one of the acts that most people seemed to miss."
Miles looks at Gavin, "Yes, I did see it. I've spent the day in the company of this lovely lady so I haven't seen the fortune teller today. My name is Miles, Miles Right. Please to meet you and I'm glad I'm not the only one to see that. Though I was going crazy."
Meg smiles, and gives a sarcastic curtsey.
"Pleased to meet you."
I must of missed the ball of light. Anyway, why are we out here? I am feelin a little uncomfortable.
Within seconds a translucent form appears before Scylax. Before him stands a beautiful young woman, no older than 20.
"Yes, of course I'm here, husband. What is it that has you flustered?"
"Then...you must not have seen it... The vision?"
The apparition looks confused and simply shakes her head slowly. Scylax thinks for a moment before speaking again.
"Nevermind. Rest easy, Vesma. I've got work to do."
As the apparition fades away, Scylax turns toward the Hilltop and moves toward it.
The ringmaster had just begun speaking, weaving another tale, this one a romanticized version of the history of the country.
“…and then, Althamar and his comrade-in-arms, Gornash, traveled south. They continued to explore this strange new world. I’m sure you all know the harrowing tale of their fight with the giant tentacle frog-monster. Or the time they fought off an entire pack of yeti. And I’m sure you are all even more familiar with the story of the founding of the capital city, yes?”
The crowd, clapping and cheering, erupted even further at the mention of the nation’s hero and founder.
”But I am here to tell you all a story that is after the story. What happened after Gornash left to found the kingdom to the East, Gornashka. This story takes place right here, on this very hill. You see, many long years ago, after the initial founding of your kingdom, the Great Althalus spat upon his adventuring companions, by giving them minor baronies.”
This is met with a lot of booing, and the attitude of the crowd is shifting toward a much more aggressive mood.
”These people fought alongside him, and he shipped them off to the various corners of the land, and then promptly sold off other noble titles to anyone who could afford it, thereby further disgracing his loyal companions. You see, my family is descended from one of those, Althalus’ own squire, Bofand the Brave. Bofand was loyal to his master, and what did he get? He got NOTHING! He got cast aside, and because of this, my family has suffered, SUFFERED! We’ve lived in squalor while Althalus’ decendants run this kingdom into the ground. We were once barely rulers of Dromston, and now not even that! Well, I say, enough!"
By the end of his little story, the crowd was actively booing him. Not a smiling face in the crowd. As he started yelling back at some of the people in the crowd, Joram turns to the group.
”This is going to end badly. They might attack this poor idiot. Wait here, eyes open.”
He walks up the little hill, turns around, and half-draws his sword. He stares down at the crowd, and no one is attemptimg to climb the hill.
Yet.
Scylax hears the rant as he nears the hill. This man is suicidal apparently. Although Scylax can understand revenge better than most, this man is obviously delusional. Scylax grabs his coiled whip off his belt and holds it at the ready in case he needs to save this idiot from himself.
Oy! Oy! Let's not make this guy a marytr! Let's just go back to the festivities and enjoy ourselves.
"I said something wasn't right here. What is he up to? He can't be that stupid."
Miles then casts detect magic and looks for any signs of it from the hill.
The ringmaster chuckled at the crowd's reaction.
"But not to worry, my "good citizens" of Althamar." He punctuated his speech with air quotation marks. "For the carnival's owner is here to make his peace with you. Calm down, and welcome Lord Calathas Drethel."
Knowledge Local DC 10:
House Drethel is a famous family in Althamar, though no one has heard from them in several decades.
Knowledge Local DC 15:
House Drethel is said to be a defunct, extinct noble house. They are thought to be all dead, and their holdings left vacant.
Knowledge Local DC 20:
Drethel, one of the three adventuring companions of the country's founder, started a noble house when his friend founded the country. Drethel has always been a small house, in terms of family members, but has never lack for power or prestige.
Knowledge Local DC 25:
House Drethel is known to be the source of some of the country's most vile villains, and is also the source of most of her greatest heroes. There is a largely-forgotten saying about Drethel: "House Drethel may not produce many heirs, but if you ever meet a Drethel, run away. You are looking at an angel or demon made flesh." For some reason, every generation of Drethel there are two children born. Never more, never less.
A wizened old man makes his way up to the hill. He is dressed in a plain wool robe, and walks with the aid of a cane. After he ascends the hill, he raises his hand. The gesture is an obvious attempt to quiet the crowd.
After a few moments, most of the crowd does quiet down, largely out of curiosity.
The old man smiles.
He grabs the ringmaster, and they fly up about 60 feet into the air. When the reach the zenith of their flight, Lord Calathas Drethel snaps his fingers.
Flaming meteors fall from the sky, plummeting the town.
Dromston erupts in flame.
Seeing the meteors rain down, Miles gasps. "That doesn't look like peace to me!"
As the man rants and raves, Gavin chuckles a little, "This guy's a raving arse. Let the crowd tear him-" He stops abruptly as the robed man joins the other on the hilltop. When they suddenly launch into the air, Gavin's stomach drops. As the meteors begin crashing into the town, he turns to his new acquaintances, "Get the people away from here! We have to flee!"
Gavin runs toward the nearest group of panicking townsfolk and tries to usher them away from both the burning city and the enraged wizard.
Why those no good rotten goblin kissers! Clyde waves to the crowd. Everyone follow me! We gotta get outta town! Get the kids and old folks to wagons! Cyde starts hustling people away.
Scylax watches as the wizard flies into the air and his gut drops into the pit of his stomach. He quickly snaps his whip back in place and as the meteors begin to fall, Scylax begins coordinating the evacuation effort with the others.
The nobleman laughs hysterically, and weaves his hands in an obvious display of spellcasting.
The fire and destruction of Dromston ceases. It was all an illusion.
He chuckles.
"Now that you have seen my vengeance, I shall take my wrath to the Capital, and unleash what you've seen here upon the treacherous Royal Family!"
He flies over the crowd, and lands on the north side of town.
You can see that the carnival had already packed up once everyone was out of the tent, and are already well on their way out of town. They've left the giant pavilion tent behind.
Hey the carnival packed up when we were going to the hill, they are makin a run for it!
Miles seems preoccupied and replies to Clyde "If you say so big guy."
To the group in general and the sheriff he says, "I don't know if there is much we can do against that kind of power but someone must warn the capital and the king."
Scylax sees the same thing the muscle-bound youth does and knows this event is somehow tied with the vision shared between the four men. He looks to each of them in turn and shouts.
"Those that were to meet me in the Tavern! We must warn the Capital!"
Scylax jogs over to Joram and claps the Paladin on the shoulder.
"Joram, I need you to get me four fast horses. I know you have no reason to believe me, but have faith that it is for us to carry this message. I will have my church send you payment for the horses."
Ya,let's get going. Although I dunno how we are going to be let in with us bein townfolk and all.
"The big guys right. They have no reason to believe us. It would be best if Joram had a way to warn them. Maybe a magical way that might be faster than them flying?"
I just don't see us catching them even on horseback.
As the illusory destruction fades, Gavin takes stock of the distant duo, the departing circus, and the panicked townsfolk. "Before we do anything, we must help Joram calm the hysterical masses. Then, what of it? Is he actually going to burn the royal family, or is he going to play with illusions again? Why come here to make a big false reveal, allowing us the chance to spread word of his potential terror? I feel like we are being played, and us rushing to the capital is exactly what he wants..."
Joram thinks for a moment.
"I can certainly get you some fast horses. That caravan wasn't going too terribly fast, with all those wagons. You might just catch them. Either way, go warn the Capital. I don't have any way to word to them any faster than horseback, but if you are willing, just go! Meet me at the north exit of Dromston, and you will have your horses!"
Well let us get going! Clyde goes and gets his stuff before heading to where they will get their horses.
Gavin pulls off his hat, runs his fingers through his hair, then puts it back on. "I don't like it, something does not add up. But we need to warn the capital. Okay, Joram, lead on to those horses... and a pony... perhaps?"
"Joram, could you write some sort of introductory letter that we can give to the officals in the capital. Otherwise I don't think we are going to be taken seriously."
And if that happens there are people there I need to warn.
Joram leads the group to a stable owned by the city. He points out several saddles, and promptly follows Miles' advice. He grabs a piece of parchment, and immediately starts writing up a missive to the Crown. He pours hot sealing wax over it, and stamps the seal with a signet ring he is wearing.
As he writes, he explains that the horses are yours, along with a pair of saddlebags and a saddle each.
"Make haste, and warn the Royals! We can't risk anything happening to our beloved King!"
We must ride like have never ridden before! Which makes sense since I have never ridden before.
Gavin looks at the others as they saddle up their mounts. After a moment's searching he finds a lonely, shaggy looking pony, that has probably seen use for little more than pulling a supply cart around town. Despite its haggard appearance, Gavin finds in it a kindred spirit, and offering it an apple he rubs its snout before beginning to saddle it up.
Clyde saddles up!
The pony seems to appreciate Gavin's attempts, and nuzzles him affectionately.
The party sets out, headed north to the next city on the Great Trade Road.
Clyde bonds with his fellow travelers by playing the banjo.
"We need to try and get around the caravan without them seeing us. Maybe if we pass them by in the next town."
As Clyde plays his banjo, Miles joins in by sings a song about the Tales of Brave Sir Robin.
Keeping a careful eye for any signs of the traveling circus troupe as they hit the Great Trade Road, Gavin cannot help but think that the wizard and his compatriot played out their hand a bit too grandly... too early. Turning to the others, "Don't you think it is strange, a bold, open, yet fake attack that seemed to give away all their plans? Having now created a roar of fear in these parts, people will scatter to the winds, spreading word of the "attack". As mounting fear builds, will others join with this bitter man's cause? Or will the crown react aggressively, clamping down on personal freedoms? We must be ready for a variety of outcomes."
Yea, kinda strange, almost like they were counting on some kinda response when they could have done it secretly and not risked some plucky band of adventurers wrecking their plan.
The trip toward the next northernmost city, Argilith, is thankfully quite smooth. After traveling late into the night, you arrive at Argilith late in the night. There are no walls, just a small town lining the main trade road, with a few additional streets. You quickly spy a night guard, a young man wandering the streets with a club resting on his shoulder. He waves at you, and points directly across the street from where he stands, at a building taller than those around it. The sign proclaims it's name as The Illuminated Shadow. True to it's name, it's reasonably well lit, with around a dozen hooded lanterns strewn about the outside.
The door is slightly ajar, and light and warmth emanate from within. It smells of cooked meat, and has the sharp tang of sweat coming from within.
Why thank you very much kind guard. Clyde heads towards the inn, wondering if they will meet some one.
The young man nods to Clyde, and waves at the party. He goes back to his rounds.
"I wonder what this place has to offer besides the obvious. Let us go in." Miles then opens the door and enters the tavern.
Fritz sits in the tavern curled over one of his books, this one called The Adventures of Aroden. A fictionalized account of the early exploits of Aroden. He sipped on some wine while he waited for Heinrich to arrive. He looked up as the blond youth came through the door, followed by the bulky man. No sign of Heinrich yet.
Upon entering the Inn, you are greeted by a blast of warm air. The fire still burns hot, even at this late hour, and there is a low table facing the door, with a bright-eyed young woman sitting at it. She jumps up, and smiles a welcoming smile.
"Welcome to the Illuminated Shadow! Rooms are a silver piece per bed, and I can make you a hot meal if you'd like. How may I serve you?"
Why hello there! I'd like some ale and a meal please. Been a long day. Clyde looks around, maybe there will be some mysterious cloaked figure lurking around.
Fritz looks up as Clyde calls hello, then he blushes, having assumed someone was talking to him. He looks at the man, he almost could have come out of his story he was reading. One of the lowly warriors that were taken up in Aroden's wake and made into a hero. He signals to the serving girl.
I will have one more wine please.
Miles looks the woman up and down taking her all in. "A bed and meal would be wonderful. Had much business here tonight?", Miles asks hoping for some word of the circus.
Heinrich happily ignores the newcomers as he is putting his own wine into a test tube and peering into it with one eye pressed against the glass.
He'll turn to Fritz and thrust the vial at him.
Are there too many tannins in this wine? They called me mad when I presented my paper, but I know I'm right. Tannins are bad for the teeth!
Fritz closes his book as Heinrich storms in, and puts it in his pouch.
He takes the vial, smells it. Then smells his own wine. Well it smells alright. He takes a sip and spits it out across the table.
ARODEN! That's terrible Heinrich. I mean, really terrible. I would say it is less about the amount of tannins and more about the fact that it tastes like vinegar.
He takes sip of his own wine to clear his mouth.
Though. I suppose it is an accomplishment that you made vinegar smell like wine. That is something to be proud of.
I didn't make the wine, I bought it in the street from a passing wine cart. Or soap vendor, the sign wasn't very clear but the liquid did look promising!
Flipping out a folio he begins to scribble notes with a pencil.
Don't buy wine from Herr...um, he had red hair. Don't buy wine from the red haired wine merchant using a blue cart. Excellent note.
He then calls for a glass of white wine to which he subjects further rigorous examination.
So what is the occasion? You don't usually ask to meet mid week. Usually its at the end of the week when you need help staying in school.