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"You r-r-r-really should fly away while you can, Miss A-a-a-atomie, ma'am. My companions are quite violent and well aware your weakness is cold iron. Please, leave while you're still alive!" Danicka exclaims bravely, trying to convince the fey to leave before her friends kill it.... and slipping in that tidbit about cold iron in case it doesn't.
The little fey starts laughing at Yaiho, "Silly man! I want the shiny thing, there are no bugs or necromancers here..." When Danicka chimes in, the atomie laughs even harder, "You speak funny! A-a-a-a-a-" Her mocking and laughing comes to a sudden stop, however, when Forrest starts laughing himself. Her voice cracks a bit as she yells down at the lantern bearer, stuttering for real this time, "What a-are you laughing at? I-I-I'm just as big as you! A-a-and way better with a sword..." She puts a tiny hand on the needle like rapier stowed in her belt.
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When Brock starts laughing, the atomie puts her hands over her ears and shakes her head, "Stop laughing! Stop laughing!" It seems the fey doesn't like people laughing at her one bit, despite the fact that she obviously really enjoys doing it to others. She snaps out of her mini tantrum when Umbrutani's crossbow bolt goes sailing past, missing by only inches thanks to the blurring effects of the mist. She stick out her tongue and blinks out of sight, "Y-y-you can't stop me!"
The animal noises from the surrounding forest have started to fizzle out, and the Elk stumbles it's way to safety.
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Yaiho's sling bullet flies off into the mist, and a few moments later a tiny thud can be heard in the distance. It obviously missed the fet, but with both Sinaryn and Brock laughing boisterously, you all hear a tiny voice screaming in irritation, "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" The sound is coming from the space Forrest so recently vacated, and it show no signs of stopping as long as the laughter is maintained, "I hate you all!"
"No! It's mine." The tiny voice says, just before the loud pistol explodes in her ear, "Aaaghh!"
Remarkably, Sinaryn manages to pinpoint the exact location of the diminutive fey by sound alone, and little specks of blood materialise from thin air, "Ow ow ow! I didn't want that stupid thing anyway..." She says rather peevishly, but still invisible, "You're stupid. It's stupid. You belong together!"
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Brock laughs again, this time in real amusement.
"I like you, little thing. Come, I will keep you in a jar and entertain all and sundry at the bar. You will be my ticket to free drinks for weeks!"
Stopping laughing, he continues "or, just leave. We will take our stupid selves and this stupid thing from your territory. You will not see us again after this day."
As another crossbow bolt flies perilously close, the invisible atomie lets out an exasperated, "FINE!" You then hear the grumblings of a sulking fey rise higher into the air, "But I'm only going because I'm bored, not because you told me to..." Once she is far enough and high enough to feel safe, she shouts down, "And you can return the stupid head your stupid selves!"
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Umbru stares sullenly in the direction that the fey seemed to have flown off to. His external stoicism does not reveal what he is thinking internally, however. If you could read his mind, it would be something along the lines of a bomb smashing into the atomie.
Once certain that the creature is not returning, he turns to examine the lantern. As soon as he figures out, however, he quickly puts it down and retreats. "This... this implement. It traps souls and return, releases a blast of fire... I'm not sure I want to be holding it."
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Brock smiles as the small fey decides discression is the better part of valor. He did like the mouthy thing and would have not relished killing it, not enough honor in it to offset the amusment he recieved from the thing.
Looking at the lantern, he sheathes his longsword and readies his crossbow for travel.
"So its a magic lantern? Useful I guess. Off to fight a cult or somesuch, after cannibal haunts and crazy fey I'm quite looking forward to crossing swords with some crazy cultist humanoids."
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"Oh my!" Danicka exclaims as the Umbru tells her what the lantern does. "That's horrible!"
At Forrest's assurance that we won't kill anyone, Danicka smiles brightly at him. "Well said!"
At Sinaryn's reminder of eating ourselves, Danicka pales suddenly. "Y-y-y-yes, let's hurry," she stutters. Rushing to return to the safety of Birdy's inn.
---
On the walk back Danicka tells Yaiho: "Thank you for carrying the bear head. I'm sure Miss Birdy will be happy to have it back."
---
To Brock, Danicka remarks, "Yes, this Living God... I've heard little of him."
Turning her attention to the group as they walk, she asks, "Does anyone have experience with his cult? Is he truly divine?"
"If the rod is truly to blame for the people of Allenstead's piousness, then it must be using enchantments. Mind control and the like... If that's true the priest must be dastardly, indeed!"
After a while she remarks, "At least this next task seems like it will help people. ....I hope."
The Pathfinders return to The Restless Bear inn and Birdy greets you with obvious relief that you made it back in one piece, and with your souls fully intact. At first she thinks that you must have headed her warnings and decided to turn back before reaching the grove, but when Yaiho hands her the slightly soggy stuffed bear’s head, she figures your day was probably a little more interesting then that, "I'm glad yas are back, but don't ye tell me what happened... 'Tis bad luck to speak o' that place too much..."
Since it's getting late, it seems like a good idea to stay the night here and set off bright and early in the morning. The accommodations are rather meager, the inn is little more than a one-story hostel with only a single large room for guests to sleep in, but Birdy is good company (despite constantly trying to force food upon Umbrutani,) and she even offers to knit mufflers or socks for a few of you.
The next day, you start your journey towards the relatively obscure village of Allenstead. Using the map from Ulisha's journal, it only takes a few uneventful days to get to your destination, but that still provides ample time to ask a few locals or read along the way about the relatively new Razmir religion.
As you disembark from your boat and stand on a small dock at the end of a long solitary dirt road, you realise just how remote this village actually is. It doesn’t take long to reach the centre of Allenstead as it consists of only a few dozen buildings either side of the road, but it isn't quite what one would expect from a place like this. A large stone statue, nearly 20 foot tall stands behind a wooden stage, and most of the population seem to be either helping with its construction or tending stalls containing refreshments for the workers. Construction is almost complete, and it is clearly in the likeness of a Razmiri priest, the head of which peers down at the stage.
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Brock snorts, "I agree, smoke and mirrors. People are foolish enough to believe just about any damn fool thing if you show them what they want. But I'm not complaining," he continues with a sardonic chuckle, "my life would much less comfortable and interesting if half the folk I meet weren't gullible fools."
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Arriving at the town Brock schmoozes with the less desirable folk in town, as is his wont. Returning to the group he agrees with Danicka, "I have heard much the same, though precious little more. Then again, the folk I know are hardly pious individuals, naturally we had more interesting things to talk about."
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Danicka looks at Yaiho in shock, then slowly smiles, then finally lets out a giggle. "I suppose you're right, Yaiho."
She shakes her head at Brock's callousness, no longer surprised.
---
With newly knitted socks on her feet, and warm food in her belly, Danicka's ready to set off for Allenstead.
"I read once that the worship of Razmir began in the River Kingdoms, where it spread quickly and led to the creation of a theocracy. Allenstead has always resisted conversion despite being on the very edge of Razmiri territory."
She falls silent after that, wondering if it is indeed magic that's caused such a drastic shift in the religious habits of the town.
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Yaiho looks at the statue and gets the sudden urge to knock it over. He takes two steps toward the statue before stopping and mumbling to himself. "Yaiho topple later."
He then goes around the stalls, purchasing food to munch on while trying to get information. But either because he didn't really know what to ask or the merchants feared him too much, no one answered his poor questions.
As the Pathfinders start mingling in the crowd, most of them get very little in the way of information. Forrest finds that most people are indeed touchy about the masks that the Razmirian priests wear, seeing them as holy symbols and not to be disrespected, "May Folloch show you the errors of your ways, child." One slightly more patient older woman says, "And may Razmir's blessing be upon you."
Yaiho and Brock just get some strange responses to questions, until one man finally says, "If you are interested in Razmir, you should listen to one of Folloch's sermons! Our mayor is a priest of the great Razmir. He has given our lives meaning and shown us the joys of servitude and obedience." He looks up at the statue reverently, "May you find such joys yourself..."
The worker hardly breaks stride when responding to Danicka's question, "Folloch has entrusted us with a sacred task, miss. We must erect a magnificent monument worthy of Razmir’s greatness." He doffs his cap and continues about his work, hardly acknowledging Danicka's presence.
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Sin follows the others trying to feel out the place. She isn't a fan of organized religion as Besmara is only a last ditch prayer for a lot of those who take to the seas.
If something is off she can't place it...at all. They just seem like the usual religious fanatics to her.
"I don't know what is up with this place. How could they all change their mind so quickly. I am sure Folloch can be persuaded to tell us more." she quietly speaks to the others.
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"Hmm, most intriguing. Razmir is known as the Living God, a man who claims to have ascended to divinity by completing the Test of the Starstone. His faithful preach law, luxury, and obedience. For gods to crave worshippers is as natural as water is wet, but for conversions to happen with such rapidity is most unusual indeed. There are likely to be unusual forces at work here."
Umbru quietly listens to the villagers and only when out of earshot of them does he mutter to the rest of the Pathfinders, "This Folloch seems of suspect. We best make him a visit."
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Brock grunts at the religious fervor of these people. Calling out the Drunken God's name while toasting, or buying the whole tavern a round when he's flush with cash, drunk, and foolish is one thing. But this, this would have been too much even for the priest merchants of Abadar that raised him.
"Yes, this seems over the top for religious zeal, lets go converse with this Folloch fellow."
And hopefully stick a blade in his guts, I'm bored
With most of the group deciding that it's time to pay Folloch a visit, you set about trying to find him. Unfortunately, even though all of the townsfolk speak about the man with reverential awe, no one seems to know where he is, the typical reply being, "I do not know where he is now, but he will be here at noon, as he always is. Folloch never misses his daily sermon." By the time the fifth or sixth person tells you the same thing, it's approaching noon anyway, and the townspeople have started to set down their tools to form a crowd at the base of the stage. So you fall in with the rest of the crowd and wait.
At noon, an overweight man in dark robes exits from a house and makes his way towards the stage, flanked by a pair of guards. On spotting the man, the crowd start to murmur excitedly, and a few people just seem to stare wide-eyed and in absolute awe. Once he makes it onto the stage, he raises his arms as if to hold the entire crowd in an embrace, in one hand, he holds a mask made of iron, in the other a golden bejeweled rod. The crowd silences as the man bellows out the words, "All hail the living god!"
"ALL HAIL THE LIVING GOD!" The crowd answer in unison.
Folloch, for there is very little doubt this man can be anyone else, glances around at the crowd with a self satisfied smile. However, his eyes soon meet those of Yaiho, who stands out quite a bit in this crowd, and then the rest of the Pathfinders in turn, "Ah! My dearest children, it appears some stray lambs have wandered into our flock! Surely Razmir can uncloud the minds of these wayward souls." With a flourish, Folloch extends the rod in your direction, and grinning malevolent, utters an arcane word.
Nothing happened. Realization slowly spreads across his face, and Folloch stammers for his congregation to defend him, "S-stop these heretics! My children, they... They must not be allowed to stop m- To defy will of Razmir!" As the crowd suddenly turns on you, Folloch quickly starts running off the stage followed closely by his guards, ”Do not let them leave!" Is the final thing you hear him shout before each of you is suddenly grabbed at from all sides by the townsfolk.
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Danicka raises her eyebrow as everyone seems to tell her the exact same thing...
Odd.
Still, she moves along with the crowd, staying near her companions to watch how this sermon begins.
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When Danicka notices Folloch's golden rod she eyes it curiously.
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As the man points his rod at them and mutters something arcane, Danicka exclaims bravely "Hey! D-d-d-don't cast magic at us! We didn't even do anything!" Meekly she adds "Yet..."
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As Folloch hurries off the stage and sicks the crowd on them, Danicka exclaims, "That man is h-h-horrible!"
Realizing the crowd might be more of a danger than Folloch she turns her attention to them, "Now, wait," she squeaks nervously. "We haven't done a-a-anything wrong. P-p-p-please let us through."
Unfortunately he timid pleas can barely be heard over the crowd.
To her friends she pleads "Don't hurt them! It's not their fault!"
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Sinaryn not being fond of being grabbed looks for the thinnest parts of the crowd to move through.
Once deciding the best route she attempts to use a nimble approach to weave through or over parts of the crowd.
"Danicka, damn the mindless crowd. We need to move before they overcome us or I WILL HAVE TO HURT THEM!" she yells out to Dakicka and the others while trying to get clear.
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"Fools! Out of my way or face my wrath!" Brock roars and he moves to pursue, pushing his way through the crowd; rattling his blade as he does so.
He resists the urge to just draw the vlade and cut down every fool who would dare lay hands on him, just barely.
With him waving that wand about, these fools are probably compelled by magic. No honor in killing weak willed puppets.