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Kjeta wants to reach out, and run her fingers through the worried lass's hair...only, Perhaps there's a reason I mistook her age yesterday. 'six years in Zobeck working as a guard and a smith'? Perhaps she's not as young as I thought. Am I SO bad at judging humans' ages?
Unsure, she restrains her hand and concentrates on what she knows. Holding two tankards overhead she calls out: "Mother of Ales, by this Lambic, may your blessings flow over Midgard like a cleansing rain."
Kjeta is relishing the taste of her own handiwork when Raseri's words almost make her (sacreligiously) spit beer. "WHUU--?!? Elves--wearing an emblem like the ones yesterday--have taken the walls? Are you sure??"
As Raseri responds, Kjeta stands. "OK then, we should go see to this wall, and to the temple of Volund as well. Folk may be in danger. Will you join me?"
When Hrungnir gives his reply, Deimus remains silent and keeps walking, hugging his cloak to himself. This was the Kobold way in Zobeck. He was used to being shouted at, treated with disrespect, and having his words turned into further excuses for violence. So like any living Kobold, he had learned to duck out of attention to avoid escalation.
But all of this was different, he thought. He was not any Kobold, he was Deimus, the Bold Kobold, plus he wasn't a Kobold anymore, not really, at least in others' eyes, and in Kobolds' eyes.
Lexi's words gave him further pause. Hrungnir was not from Zobeck, so whatever he felt about his words could not be taken within the context of Zobeck, but moved within the context of the Northlands. So perhaps the Dwarf had made a compliment after all...
In any case, the situation demanded more tact than strife. As they approched the missing street, he turns to the others and says: "Tzk. I apologize then. Let us keep these words and their meant and discerned meanings in the paszt."
As the Gnome tells his version of the confusion, Deimus tilts his head, then asks: "Disappearing streets... I can see why you prefer to stay and wait to see it reappearing. I'm quite curious myself. You say other streets have disappeared, but for a day. When did this start, you would guess? And do you think every day is a different street?"
Hrungnir nodded. ”Aye.” He said, feeling bad but not knowing how to put such a feeling to words. He was used to such an exchange leading hurled insults and sometimes fists, followed by laughter and ale. An apology was unexpected. The south was a foreign place indeed. Part of him wondered how these people had survived, let alone prospered. Deciding that he’d need to be more tactful, but not knowing quite how, he walked in silence behind Deimus.
He ponders Deimus' inquiry, never taking eyes from the dirt patch, counting back on his fingers "Well, yesterday was the spearmint beer...afore there was the spring cheese...and afore that...ah, the pluckleberry stout. So 3. 3 days past." he nods, reveling in his excellent memory. "Every day a different one..? Guess it could be, hard to catch all the city with yer eye in a day...though some have ears in all places at once, to be certain."
Mackledraw bows awkwardly to seal the deal. "Alright, glad to hear it! Shame to waste relics from another world. I have a few good people in mind, once my business with Hrungnir is settled of course."
Just a few streets before rounding the corner to the temple complex, a rosy cheeked human (cloaked in yellow) eyes Deimus especially and approaches "Hold friends, dare I say you are heading to the temple? They are looting any who approach...the newest of the 'Queen's Edicts' so they say..."
"Of course. I expect that we'll have profitable trade all around, and given the current events, I'd dare say I might have more for you to sell later."
Watching Hrungnir for a moment during their trek, Lexi says
"Lord Gearforged has a silver tongue, does he not?"
His eyes widen and paranoia sweeps across his young face "Please sir...I don' wan' trouble...ma and pa passed o' the flux...I-I'm just a farm boy, poor...never learned me letters. The good vintner liked my voice is all, I didn' wan' all this...black magic or what other hell..."
An arrow with ridiculous peacock fletching suddenly strikes the boy's placard. You turn and see a great white antlered deer, huge, shadow-black bear, and a ghostly boar running chaotically through the market destroying everything they can't dodge. The crowd, naturally, screams in terror and a stampede ensues. In contrast, the boy seems to have solidified into stone, staring dumbly at the arrow motionless.
In the distance you can hear a group of horses galloping fast towards you, the guard hopefully.
.
Anyone who imbibes one dose of this brew can choose one of the following benefits:
1) Advantage on Charisma-based skill checks,
2) +1 bonus to AC, or
3) +1 increase to the DC of saving throws against their castings of enchantment spells.
.
This bonus lasts for 1 hour, leaving a warm buzz behind when it fades.
.
I'll take #3. Ras can choose whatever she'd like.
Kjeta wants to reach out, and run her fingers through the worried lass's hair...only, Perhaps there's a reason I mistook her age yesterday. 'six years in Zobeck working as a guard and a smith'? Perhaps she's not as young as I thought. Am I SO bad at judging humans' ages?
Unsure, she restrains her hand and concentrates on what she knows. Holding two tankards overhead she calls out: "Mother of Ales, by this Lambic, may your blessings flow over Midgard like a cleansing rain."
Kjeta is relishing the taste of her own handiwork when Raseri's words almost make her (sacreligiously) spit beer. "WHUU--?!? Elves--wearing an emblem like the ones yesterday--have taken the walls? Are you sure??"
"Yes, my memory is not so terrible as to be unsure of that," Raseri answers, amusement pulling at the corners of her mouth.
As Raseri responds, Kjeta stands. "OK then, we should go see to this wall, and to the temple of Volund as well. Folk may be in danger. Will you join me?"
"Of course," she says, standing and beaming as she reaches out to clasp Kjeta's forearm. "I had come to ask if you would help me see what fell weave they are laying on the guards. I would be honored to join you."
As they get ready, Raseri turns to Kjeta.
"May I ask, how old do I look to you," she asks, "You seemed surprised when you saw me and when I had mentioned how long I have been in Zobeck."
Just a few streets before rounding the corner to the temple complex, a rosy cheeked human (cloaked in yellow) eyes Deimus especially and approaches "Hold friends, dare I say you are heading to the temple? They are looting any who approach...the newest of the 'Queen's Edicts' so they say..."
"We are in fact going to the temple. Kind of you to warn us, but pray tell, what exactly is going on? Looters you say? As in, someone is ransacking Her holy temple?!" replies and asks Deimus, ready to start dashing forth.
"He means that they're taking things off of people who walk down the street." explains Lexi.
Turning to Gullberry, Lexi says "I'll collect my cloak later. You should head home and hide that bundle."
Having dispensed with Gullberry, Lexi turns back to the others and says "shall we go see about this robbery nonsense?" before walking into a patch of darkness and simply disappearing.
Carnadine arches an eyebrow at the peacock-feathered arrow. While removing his shield from his back and securing it to his arm, the Lord of the Night gently encourages the boy, "run, you fool."
The noble dhampir steps out of the way of the stampede and waits for a suitable opponent to appear.
The yellow cloaked woman shifted her stance under an awning "Yes, robbery! At first the papers being posted, these Edicts, were so stupid we all thought it was a joke...one was a ban cursing. Another said no one could eat meat without paying a portion to these fey. But more and more those who disobeyed found restlessness at night, their dreams disturbed. Some lost their voices for a full day..." her eyes plead you to believe her.
"Just now this herald appeared and has proclaimed an 'interdict' against the worship of Rava! The very patron of the Clockwork City...the priests were attacked by skillful swordsman and great hounds a few days past. Some dead, others missing...and yes, now all who visit the temple are robbed...every coin, jewel, and item of value taken as a 'fine' by this absurd 'ambassador'..."
As Raseri finishes buckling her belt around her waist, she hears the commotion from outside.
"We seem to be quite the troublesome pair," she says with a grin as she puts on her helmet. "Not even a step out the door and there is already a ruckus."
She throws her shield on her back and checks her sword and hammer before grabbing her maul and flashing Kjeta a ferocious grin.
"Ready to misbehave," she asks before throwing the door open and seeing the chaos. She spots one man not fleeing and hears the sounds of hoofbeats. She looks first to where the horses were coming from then to the destruction that had caused the stampede.
"Not that I think we can do much to make this worse," she says, a grin on her face despite the chaos.
As they get ready, Raseri turns to Kjeta.
"May I ask, how old do I look to you," she asks, "You seemed surprised when you saw me and when I had mentioned how long I have been in Zobeck."
Kjeta frowns, briefly. "How long you've been a guard and smith, rather. I've only lived with humans for a spell, but I'll confess you look like a teenager, so I--Uh oh, trouble indeed!"
Stepping outside, Kjeta focuses on the three fey animals that seem to be creating chaos.
She holds her Holy Brew in the air, and begins to chant.
What is typically a busy evening of last minute booze deals and much loading wagons with barrels and casks seems to have become a scene of some regal sport.
Another arrow streams from the distance, bouncing off a cobblestone near the white deer but just feet from a pregnant woman. The deer makes a tremendous vertical leap, setting itself atop a stone ring that bounds the trading center. The boar, whose tusks glisten like a polished knife, has accidentally partially blindfolded itself from an cloth covering a pushcart of cheese-wheels. Finally the bear simply can't seem to make up its mind where to go, already stuck with an arrow, it charges this way a few steps then another. The animals are clearly frightened, taking any path they can to escape what follows them.
The people are streaming out in crowds through narrow stalls acting like bottlenecks to the main street, equally confused and frightened. A large keg has been knicked by something and is spewing fizzy booze up into the air like a fountain.
Kjeta wisely pauses, waiting for the prime moment to cast her spell when the random paths of the creatures coalesces...
...all three stop dead in their tracks, puzzling over some invisible fragment of their minds hovering in the air.
They came from the north. Four riders in dark hunting leathers, all riding with their knees, bows nocked and aimed. From this distance, they certainly look elven...
To the alley cat watching, Lexi stepped into the darkness and vanished like one might step into an open door. The 3 story climb up the old stone buildings was easy for her, if slow going. Still, once atop the green rusted copper roofing, she swiftly kept pace with the group.
Deimus listens intently to the yellow-garbed woman, then turns to the others and says: "Tzk. Now, something is definitely up with the fey. From what we've discovered, it looks as though the fey had an old treaty. I mean oooldz treaty, something long forgotten I'm guessing. And now they come to remind us... Is there a point is going to the temple anymore? Should we not go and alert the mayor instead?"
”Ye said it yourself. It sounds like there is an old treaty, and the temple may have it. Which is where I’m going. But your also correct that the mayor needs to know. I won’t naysay a decision to go inform him.”
"You're right. Let's start with finding the old treaty first."
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Carnadine admired the hunters. He had been hunting his sire's grounds for decades for many different prey: four-legged and two-legged. He surveyed their technique, equipment and mounts. He feigned not being ready with his shield, in case he was targeted with an arrow, so he stood casually amidst the chaos, like a lord of the night.
To those seeing him for the first time, this noble dhampir stands a little over six feet tall with alabaster skin and jet black hair pulled back in a fashionable short tail. He readies a shield emblazoned gules, a skull argent. And, his matching crimson tabard is decorated to announce his status as a noble within the Order of Knights Incorporeal and overlays splint armor which tapers to fit a slim build. His weapon’s belt carries a longsword and two handaxes.
Rava, as the patron of Zobeck, has a temple whose opulence is unmatched. It is not a building but rather a compound whose artistic stylings are quite striking. Her dual symbols are the gear and the spider, driving her followers to contemplate industry and fate. Naturally these symbols echo throughout the compound in brass and green copper that looks more like silver and muddy red in the moonlight.
You immediately notice the 2 great steam golems at the main gate have been disabled, their gearheads detached and set in their own hands. Proclamations in elven are posted. The gate seems locked, but the fence is mostly decorative...vertical slits that rotate slightly like venetian blinds. One could likely squeeze through if small or dextrous enough.
Those who have visited before likely recall the layout: the main level being a shrine of trade where weights and balances are etched and blessed; a shrine of fate and foresight leading into the Clockwork Oracle's private chamber; the open Hall of the Patroness where arts and industry of a historical note are displayed (and where social events like marriages are held).
Deimus of course remembers the temple crypt, which is not for burials at all but rather for births...holding the workshops and assembly rooms of the Sanctuary of Gears. Where mortal souls are sealed into metal bodies to become children of Rava...
The grounds are sparsely lighted by torches and at a glance no movement can be seen inside...
Deimus bows his head in reverence. Rava was the protector of Zobeck, of Kobold, of Gearforged, and she gave birth to him, in some mystical way. He would go through a lot to see Her temple restored, though it seemed it would take not just effort, but time, and allies, possibly a nation's strength...
Slowly, he walks inside the temple, waiting to see if someone shows up, unwilling to break the silence beyond his heavy footsteps.
Deimus' body mechanus contorts and slips into a funny new alignment as he passes through the fencing slits, like a key slipping into a lock. Stepping onto the grounds on the other side, the gears and panels of his clockwork revert to their previous state with a series of clicks and whirs and he continues towards the shrine of fate, the main shrine of worship.
There is no move to counter his advance, and the grounds seem still save the gentle calling of a nightingale.
Seeing the riders banishes the grin from her face. She doesn't understand the reasons behind what is going on, but she's able to guess well enough. Fey nonsense and mischief of some sort. She begins stalking out into the street before holding her maul before her. Dark clouds, small, but no less ominous for their size swirl overhead centered on the young priestess. Blue eyes blaze with cold fire as she speaks out in her native tongue and reminds these fey why it was named the Rune Tung.
"Enginn heitur dauði fyrir þig. Enginn heiður verður borinn undir nafni þínu. Ég stela banvænu hvítu risanna og slá heiðurslausu líkinu þínu!"
A wall of wind sweeps down the road, riming the edges of banners and awnings in frost before wrapping around the riders and their mounts. A short, but violent storm descends on them and batters them with stinging ice and pounding hailstones. Rime crusts the engraved hammer symbol that hangs from her neck while the runes glow and crackle with lightning.
"Thor is the master of storms and battle and I his priestess, fey curs! If it is sport you wish, then come! I shall give you all that you could desire and more," she calls out as she slaps the haft of her maul into her hand.
A trio of icicles descends from the sky, striking three of the horses in their huge horse skulls simultaneously, slaying them instantly. Their riders are hurled forward...
Midflight, 2 of the ejected riders twirl acrobatically using their cloaks against the storm while the 3rd gets a faceful of hailstones. The rider that remained mounted somewhat wished he hadn't, getting a stony iceball to the shoulder...you can hear the crack from all the way where you are.
Remarkably, the thrown riders land on their feet with unearthly grace despite the icy ground. Stunned, they glance around at each other and talk to each other, unsure of what happened until it seems they all turn their gaze towards Ras...
As the others tend to their dead horses dejectedly, the mounted rider trots forward slowly, his hands raised to the sky defensively. He shouts something in elvish, but at the lack of response follows up in common "I say...you there! What is the meaning of this? Ha....now. How dare you kill royal horses during a sanctioned hunt. What is your name?"
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"A hunt?" Raseri turns to look at the animals entranced by Kjeta's spell then laughs.
"Oh, you mean the playacting those who think too highly of their birth do when they wish to be compared to rugged mountains and complimented for their virility," she says, her tone mocking the elf's outrage. "I'm afraid I took offense when you mistook an expecting mother for your prey. As for the horses, I apologize," Raseri holds her maul to one side with one hand while sweeping the other out as she bows. "I had not realized that they were so nobly born. You see, I expected elven royalty to appear as asses."
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The elf's nose seemed to tip higher and higher at each of Raseri's cutting words, lowering only for a moment to check the status of his fingernails "Now see here...what on earth are you babbling about? An expecting mother?? Do you know who you are addressing, peasant? I am Baron Gael Nerizorwyn of house Roren, first heir to Quinnendale. Since you refuse your own introduction I can only surmise your status is quite low indeed. Is this your little brewery here? Well...furthermore, you must know th--" the words get stuck in his throat as Gael notices something on your person "...is that...? *scoff* You dare brandish the false mask of Valeresh in the fey city of Zobeck?! Oh mark my words, pagan, the ambassador will hear of this...every word! Perhaps he will take pity on you and leave you your tongue but know this, you have cursed your family line for generations!" he makes a little smoochy smoochy sound to his horse with a light pull on the reigns "Come, Gretchen..." And with that, the horse turns and he slowly trots off back the way he came.
Lexi leapt from rooftop to rooftop, enjoying the freedom that came with a lack of people. Halting at the lip of one of the buildings, Lexi noticed the disassembled Golems and Elven writing.
She then watches Deimus enter the compound and is expecting resistance, but seeing none knows what it will likely mean for the interior of the building.
The young assassin watched the Gearforged's path, and the made her way along the rooftops to the building he was heading to. She then quickly looked for a way into the building itself from the roof.
Raseri is ready to roast the elf some more, but the mention of a curse sparks some faded memory in her. They would try to curse her and her descendants? She who has some curse she could not even remember?
The situation strikes her as absurd, and she begins to laugh.
"Curse me," she asks incredulously at the elf's back. "Curse me? What do you know of curses feyling? You obviously cannot tell one who is cursed from one who is not." She waves at the elf dismissively. "Go weep to this "ambassador" like the milksop you are. I care not for your blood, only your deeds, and of those you leave me woefully unimpressed. If you are too blind and dumb to see beyond your own nose and arse, then I shall not waste my breath on you."
She turns and begins making her way towards the market to see who she may help. She did not fear him. His eyes were not silver.
Beofre going any further, Deimus makes sure his companions can join him.
Squeezing/forcing his way through the fence, Hrungnir said ”Aight. To the archives. Should be near the shrine of fate. Let’s see if there is any records of pacts with fey, or why’d they think they own this place. Ye ready?”
Carnadine watches a peer and hesitates to interfere. Why did the elf think this city was the fey city of Zobeck? He wonders. Have the elves crossed over from a shadow version of Zobeck? Or have I crossed over to the shadow realm? Since he cannot tell the difference, Carnadine does not who is the injured party here.
This Baron Gael Nerizorwyn of house Roren, first heir to Quinnendale, sounds important. The noble dhampir packs this name and encounter away. He would need to investigate who the baron is and what's his thing. But, what is this Valeresh mark that the baron took offense? Very curious.
And, this disciple of Thor is chaotic as expected. Why didn't she challenge the baron to a duel? Why didn't she push the combat? Could she actually walk away from a fight and prefer to deal with the injured marketeers? Very curious.
He continued to survey the scene wondering how the elves with the dead horse will react. Are they peers too or just courtiers?
As Hrungnir shoved his way through the gate, Lexi backed up from the edge to get a running start and then with a sprint leapt across the opening between buildings.
Had anyone been looking up, they would have, at most, seen a shadow move across the sky, but as always, no one ever looks up.
Lexi then began looking for an access to the building Hrungnir mentioned from the roof, even if it required rappeling down the side of the building and breaking a higher window.
As Lexi padded along the rusty copper roofs far overhead and contemplated her next move, Hrungnir and Deimus walked through the open door to the shrine of fate.
Inside, the principal feature is a large pendulum made to resemble the strands of webbing from a spider, who looms high overhead. The pendulum was made to swing eternal over an image of Midgard, but it has stopped. Left and right on the walls are shrines for worshippers to leave intricate fabric patterns, and a vast number of them can be found undisturbed...some in large rolls nearly the size of a man.
Around the pendulum and opposite the entrance another 50 ft inside, dancing candlelight streams through a slightly open door. That must be the private sanctuary of the Oracle...
Lexi shimmied into one of the windows and then, for the moment, decided to stay out of sight. Better to let the two below draw the fire of whatever might still be in here.
As the thought crossed her mind, Lexi took a moment to examine her surroundings, focusing on the places that she would try to ambush someone from.
"Tzk."
The sight of the stopped pendulum is unsettling. Deimus feels something troubling that, in his prior vessel, would probably have been vertigo. He watches it for a very long time, himself impossibly immobile as well.
Then, finally, he tilts his head and moves towards the open door, dreading what new sign of the end of times he will find there.
The cleric defenders and the ghoulish admirer let the elves walk away defeated, but mostly unharmed. After a brief conversation, the three dismounted riders vanish is a burst of black mists, the lone rider accelerating back to the north until his hooves fall out of audio. The animals are still held captive by Kjeta's spell.
Lexi peers around the enormous cathedral-like space running a series tactical simulations through her mind. The upright bolts of cloth could be good places to hide, their sound muffling properties gravy on top...but she saw no one creeping from her vantage. A more defensive minded sniper might climb just inside the front door on either corner, but none were hanging there waiting. The intricate patterns would make floor traps easy to conceal, but she did not spot any indentions or symbols matching mechanical or arcane footsnaps she was aware of. None of this set her at ease however, her assassin instincts were screaming they were walking into something hot.
Finally Deimus broke the tension and moved towards the slightly open door when a burst of sound nearly tore out everyone's heart "Is that you, Sister Bira?" coming from within.