And so it begins....
.
hello ranger
Greetings fellow travelers!
"Hello. I'm Turvijagal. I'm not big and strong, but I'm handy with a scimitar and short swords. Things have been kind of boring for me lately. What's happening here, then?"
Looking at you all through his bloodshot eyes, Cyrus pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts.
~Will they think me a fool?~
"Dark days approach and I am not sure that any cards you may hold are good enough to win this hand. The Hanged Man has sent me a vision of battles, of powers falling and of something.."
Cyrus' words failed him as his mind recalled the image of the cadaverous figure that stared at him with those eternally dark eyes.
"...of something vile. I know not who you are, nor why the Hanged Man has sent me as his errand boy, but if this settles my debt to him this night I will play his game."
"A sign from Zors himself? Things are sounding more interesting already!"
"Well met! And what do you... suggest?"
Cyrus' first thought was to suggest they all find the nearest tavern and simply let the gods and fools sort this matter out themselves, but he knew that would not stop the dreams.
~But perhaps going there will.~
"Lessef. We need to go to Lessef. I do not know how much the church of Freya is involved, but I know the first step is there."
~And then I will deal myself out of this game. There are some stakes that are always too high, my life being one of them.~
"Then lead on. I guess as this is your song, at least you lead the choir. HA!"
A ruddy faced dwarf in heavy armor walked alongside the others. "I can't wait to get home again, that's for sure. I'm behind on my duties that's for sure. The High Priest will have a million tasks he needs me to do. Maybe he could tell you more about this Lessef place. I know it's closeby, but that's about it...he also might know more about Freya. I'm a Dwerfater man, myself," he adds, as the group continues back towards Bard's Gate.
And yet another lead on Orcus's doings didn't pan out. Hopefully the next one will be better, he thinks dejectedly, as his pursuit of rumors had not worked out...again.
The village of Lessef sits alongside a dirt road. The small farming town is home to fewer than 25 people, a number that dwindles each year as the town’s
youth leave in search of adventure and wealth. The town struggles each year to survive by trading grain and livestock. No one wants to face the fact that the town’s days are numbered.
A small, whitewashed church is the community’s only landmark. Poverty’s Bethel, a shrine to Freya, sits on a knoll overlooking the dilapidated town. The hill is the only peak for 20 miles in any direction in the flat farmland. The shrine is the lynchpin of the community, serving as a community center, temple and protection from the occasional dangers of the plains.
The three-room church sparkles against the sky, a glimmer of hope to those looking up from Lessef. A cemetery dating back hundreds of years surrounds the bethel, the broken monuments littering the hillside. A frail priest named Almery Burgand tends the church and its grounds. Almery arrived in Lessef 50 years ago and refuses to leave. He admits that the town’s future looks bleak, but he’s devoted to Freya and provides for the town’s faithful as best as his deity allows.
"Well, it seems our walk has taken us right to Lessef. You said the temple of Freya was what you were looking for, Lucky? Good news is, I believe we have found it! It looks like the only proper building in this whole village."
~And so you show me the tarnish that reveals brass where I had seen gold.~
Taking a slow breath, Cyrus glanced around once more at those he had been travelling with the past few nights. Of course the Black Dog would not have visited them, why would he? Zors was not a god that was widely looked for when things were going well, but instead had earned his niche among those who's life never quite seemed to go right, as well as appearing to those who were soon to see the noose as a great shaggy black mastiff standing near the gallows.
"Forgive my outburst. Of course none of you need to escort me to the church of Freya in Lessef. My sleep has been troubled these past few nights and it grows harder to seperate the dreams of one, from a memory of many. I am Cyrus, a physician of sorts."
At the mention of Dwerfater, Cyrus stared long at the ruddy faced dwarf in heavy armor.
"I have scant coins to pay for your services, but if he can make the visions stop, what I have are yours."
"I have scant coins to pay for your services, but he can make the visions stop, what I have are yours."
"I can certainly speak to the Priest and see if he can come up with something to help. Remind me as we get closer to home," the dwarf adds, not wanting to inform Lucky that non-dwarves are generally not allowed in the Dwerfater temple. Maybe an excption can be made, he considers.
The narrow dirt path broadens into an expanse of well-trod ground
and dry saw grass. A collection of ramshackle buildings sits amid
the cut stumps of the cleared forest. An inn – boards covering its
windows and an iron chain dangling from its front door – is the
largest structure. Houses built around the inn are barely more
than one-room shacks, most falling down or ripped apart for their
timber. Rising above it all on a gentle hillock, a small whitewashed
church marks the scattered buildings as a town. The hill is strangely
unnatural, the only such rise for miles around.
A few people shamble between the buildings, eyeing new arrivals
as they go about their daily routines. All of the townsfolk are old,
stooped by the weight of years of hard work and harder conditions.
Their wrinkled faces are mixed with sweat, dust and tears; the visible
marks of their long lives of toil.
Suddenly, an old man’s voice rings out, shattering the silence:
“That damned fox! It took another of mah chickens!”
The village of Lessef sits alongside a dirt road. A small, whitewashed church is the community’s only landmark. Poverty’s Bethel, a shrine to Freya, sits on a knoll overlooking the dilapidated town. The hill is the only peak for 20 miles in any direction in the flat farmland. The shrine is the lynchpin of the community, serving as a community center, temple and protection from the occasional dangers of the plains. The three-room church sparkles against the sky, a glimmer of hope to those looking up from Lessef.
~This place? This is where you want me to go? This place seems even bleaker than the brothels of the orc warrens.~
"It would seem the people here want to ensure Freya knows they have not turned away from her, but you would think she would allow them a few coins of their own to live on as well."
Looking up at the top of the hill, Cyrus once more absently reaches towards his vest pocket before staying his hand.
"I was not expecting this sight. I had assumed there would be something more to this place."
I would accompany you if you wish i am intrested to see what this mess is about and to help remedy it.
Looking around and kneeling down to feel the ground, pick up a piece and smell of it the ranger shakes his head. "Stupid children. The soil is fertile and they could have a decent living here. Why are they always trying for the big city. It seems as if this place just has lost his will to thrive!"
In some agreement with the dwarf,"I would say it looks more like they have had their will to live taken away or ground away. They all seem defeated in these parts that is for sure. Is that the church we are looking for?" Jarvis gestures to the top of the hill.
Turning toward his fellow dwarf, Hagrym inquires, "Want to catch a fox? I hate for the fellow to lose all his chickens."
"That is the church and I won't stop you from coming along with me to speak to the head priest or priestess there. As I have said though, I have scant coins and I am loathe to ask you for an ante that I can't match."
As music suddenly fills the area, Cyrus turns to look at Naomi surprised at her actions. The town does not feel to him like it lends itself to tunes of any sort, but it could also simply be his foul temper influencing that thought.
~Maybe she can sing the fox to sleep.~
Fox or church...
"Cyrus I will accompany you to the church, let us meet the priest of our destinies."
Moving in beside Cyrus, Jarvis is definitely weighing the cleric.
Talk about rough times...
as will i i will contribute to the cause. For i think it will be a good cause. This land is as i grew up fertile and full of promise if used wisley it would provide well for them.
Looking at you all through his bloodshot eyes, Cyrus pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts.
~Will they think me a fool?~
"Dark days approach and I am not sure that any cards you may hold are good enough to win this hand. The Hanged Man has sent me a vision of battles, of powers falling and of something.."
Cyrus' words failed him as his mind recalled the image of the cadaverous figure that stared at him with those eternally dark eyes.
"...of something vile. I know not who you are, nor why the Hanged Man has sent me as his errand boy, but if this settles my debt to him this night I will play his game."
"Visions you say...Dream weft from Beyond perhaps. Always these threads contain an element of primal chaos, the force that drives us all along a multitude of fates. How exciting! Names Galerio, and I for one cannot wait to see how we play these cards."
Galerio's face barely contains his excitement, so much so that one of eyes seems to change color from a faded blue to a deep indigo.
Nodding his head in thanks to the three men, Cyrus waited to see if the dwarves and Naomi would first head into town towards the voice of the vulpine victim or visit the church with them.
"If Zors says this church is worth a visit, that's good enough for me!"
"If Zors says this church is worth a visit, that's good enough for me!"
~He has far more faith in your whims than I do Black Dog, but I doubt he has felt your noose as intimately as I have.
"May your faith in him be the truth of things."
"As I see it, truth and luck are much the same. Some is good, some is bad."
"Let us go to the church first. The fox has already eaten the hen, I will help you later with the fox hunt." Shouldering his longaxe the stout dwarf walks up the hill, slow and steady.
"I agree sir dwarf, the fox will be fat, full, and slow after the church. We can do a good deed for someone around here and perhaps bring some relief to this dreary place."
Stepping out of the way of the guardsman axe, Cyrus' gaze was drawn once more to the gleaming building at the top of the small hill. While Cyrus' experiences with members of other faiths had been strained at best, he thought that the Freyians were among those that would at least listen to someone rant nonsensical words before ushering them out to the streets.
~From the looks of things, it isn't like they have much else to do to pass the time.~
Falling lin behind the guardsman, Cyrus finally allowed himself to reach into his vest pocket and pull out the small knotted rope that was symbol of faith.
~Once I deliver this dream message, I am out. I am no oracle or prophet.~
As you walk into the old chapel a wiry old man is tending to cleaning with two young children a boy 11 and a girl 9. "Ooh, we have company. Bring them some water children."
The two children bring cups of cool water for you all.
"Hello! Welcome:)"
"Hello. Thanks for the water"
"Hello! Welcome:)"
"Hello indeed! Many thanks for the water. The road always leaves me parched."
Galerio takes in his surroundings as a tourist would visiting such an old and quaint chapel.
Hagrym drank deeply as the children passed him a glass. "ahh, delicious! The dusty road is called that for a reason.". He moved around the church looking for anything suspect. "Is everything going well here? Freya reating you good?"
The paladin doesn't bring up Lucky's crazy vision talk. He'd have to relieve that burden himself.
Inspecting the water and deciding I will just hold onto it.
"Thank you for the refreshment sir, I understand we are prophesied to be here?"
As you walk into the old chapel a wiry old man is tending to cleaning with two young children a boy 11 and a girl 9. "Ooh, we have company. Bring them some water children."
The two children bring cups of cool water for you all.
"Hello! Welcome:)"
As the children offer the simple cups of water to the others and himself, Cyrus reached out carefully and picked up one of the simple wooden cups.
"My thanks to you both and may your days be pleasant and nights peaceful."
Looking around the church and raising the cup to his lips, Cyrus nearly choked on the water as one of the men addressed the church elder.
"Thank you for the refreshment sir, I understand we are prophesied to be here?"
~By the Black. He is as subtle as the cat with feathers stuck to his teeth. Still perhaps it is best to see what the Elder knows before I am asked to leave.~
"Don't know about prophecies. We are seeming having an issue with a fox stealing a lot of our chickens of late though."
Not trying to hide his disappointment, Turvijagal says "That's it? One fox nicking a few eggs? Nothing more … interesting … around here lately?"
"Not just a few eggs. There is definitely something is odd about the animal; too many chickens have gone missing recently, more than a fox would be capable of taking. Another disturbing fact is that none of the farmers has reported any blood or feathers left behind when one of the hens or roosters goes missing. I could use the assistance of a group of hearty folk like yourselves to track down whatever is stealing the chickens. I could offer a small reward and the blessings of Freya."
"I know now whether you would find it interesting, but I have recently found something in my sweeping of the floor here that I am convinced are of divine origin."
Looking around the town, Ulfgard shrugs. "I think a very small reward is enough for hunting a fox. Make it a double blessing. I think your flock might need the money!"
While the issue of stolen livestock would be of great importance to a withering town, Cyrus could not muster the energy to give a droplet of yak urine currently. He was tired from the road, tired from lack of sleep and tired of being sober this long.
"I am to blame for the statement of prophecy. Zors has plagued my sleep these past nights with dreams I would rather not describe in front of your young wards. If Freya has not shared the same with you, then perhaps I am too late."
~Or perhaps just a fool...~