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The quarterling finishes adjustments and loading the big gun, frantic, hurried.
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The Fear Eater looks up at Viatrix, realizing just now what she was doing, and for the first time, fear crosses it's eyes as the cannon ball collides with its worm like body with a bang!
Status at end:
Augustus: 7/15
Cra'rak: 9/17, -1 to Will saves vs. Emotional effects
Karak: 15/22
Siren: 13/20
Viatrix: 9/20
Victor: 15/21
After a few minutes, everyone is able to shake off their fear and dread, and you reconsolidate to continue towards home. . .
While still affected by the disease, you feel your control over your emotions to be reduced- fear, paranoia, rage all become more difficult to control, and you can feel the spores physically inside your body festering, but they die quickly after a few hours and shrivel away.
Viatrix whistles loud and long, trying to get Victor's attention. After his return (and that of the group), she sets about examining the exploded corpse. "What were that thing? And what the Huntsman want with us?"
She looks around for its face, hoping to take it back and ask Sylvia about it.
"Count myself lucky that it only disfigured me. If it had gone in with it's claws, I might not be standing here right now.
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I'm glad we're all okay, that thing was pretty terrifying... Malik looks over the remnants of the slug monster; So the huntsman works for the Fey King? Anyone ever heard of the Fey King? Maybe we should go ask Elise when we get back to town, or maybe tomorrow.
Looking at the cannons to be brought to Augustus' Malik shrugs, We should probably work to get these stowed and go get an ale at the Burning Thirst to celebrate our hard work!
With his mount *finally* calmed, Karak made his way back to the group. What he found was a smear on the ground where the creature had once been. Looking at it, and then the cannon, he could guess what had happened.
"Well. What. The. FOOK! Was that?" He asked, looking around at the group. "Who is the Huntsman? And how does this factor into the war going on?" He asked the group, feeling both confused and unnerved.
Viatrix shrugs in response to Malik, still searching through the mushroom goop to find the man's head. "I never heard much about the fey. No parents, no education. People don't talk much about the fey round here, at least not to me."
Giving up the search , Viatrix hops atop her steed and rolls a cigar. "I don't remember if anyone told you, but some days back when we were rescuin the local hedge witch, we ran afoul of some Easterner deserters, one of em wearing this amulet," the cattle drover reaches into a saddlebag and then tosses the dwarf an altered holy symbol of Attriana, with a stag's skull instead of an intact one.
"We thinkin that's the Mad Huntsman's symbol, considerin the man what wore it talked him up a lot. An I think Sylvia said something of the Huntsman being her apprentice and needing a dick potion? I don't rightly recall."
She licks the tobacco leaf and seals the cigar, twisting the ends, placing it behind her ear for later. Hopping down from Victor, she pulls a jug off his saddle and offers it around. "Malik can tell you, I don't offer booze to others lightly, but I think we all deserve to start drinking way before we end up back at his bar."
"I rather expect that you'll all be happier if I do not join you for drinks. I feel...rather flat at the moment. There is no joy in this victory." As he talks, the Tengu's voice slurs further, and his eyes show less and less emotion, before he becomes silent.
"Agreed, I'd like to do something, really anything to take my mind off of that thing"
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You make it back to Burrowdar without further incident.
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Looking at the Tengu with concern, Karak said ”Ill get ye home first, lad. Ye fought well, but don’t look so good..a good night sleep may do ye well. And if not, well, we’ll get ye the help ye need.”
After the guns are well-hidden, Kazell asks the group when they are meeting to plan the ambush. Once she knows, she goes back to her shop, not really wanting to drink, and knowing that there would be people who would be waiting for their books.
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Malik heads back to the Tavern, tending to the few patrons mixed with the soldiers in the space. He pours ales for the companions who join him, and generally keeps an eye on the soldiers to see what they are doing. How did we get mixed in the middle of this... Armies and kings, and now Fey?
Viatrix, Karak, Augustus! Here you are! Well done friends. Let's check on our poor Cra'rak in the morning and see how he fares. Then perhaps gather Kazell and go see Sylvia in the morning and ask her what she knows? I suspect we have a lot to learn here beyond the immediate problems the bartender waves his hand generally around the tavern with the last statement.
"Malik, cut me off after, uh, five," says Viatrix, wincing. "I gotta remember to collect the oxen from Auggy's, take them home. And I need to talk to my kid brother."
Upon quickly finishing her first drink however, she adds, "of course, I can always do all that in the morning. Forget what I said. We drink the night thru."
Cra'rak just nods. He staggers back to his shack, and passes out for the evening. He will not wake up until roused.
Without his armor and mount, Karak certainly looked different. He kept his hammer on him though, as it hung from his back. There were some things that a dwarf just couldn't be without. "A night well earned I would say." Karak responded, taking a seat with the others. "And that's wise of ye, lass. Far too many have ended up either dishonored or bound by hastily made oaths due to imbuing too much."
After the first drink he chuckled at her pronouncement. He didn't respond, but decided to keep an eye out for her, just to be sure that a good night didn't turn into a bad one.
"Honor is, is fake," the quarterling replies between gulps. "Anyone concerned with honor never had to burn their own waste to survive thru winter."
"Honor is fake? Honor is the most valuable possession ye can have, lass. Valuable because it is so hard to keep and so easy to lose." Karak responded, taking a drink himself. "And anyone without it will doubtlessly have an excuse which sounds good to them and them alone."
She laughs and takes the thin cigar she rolled earlier out from behind her ear, lighting it. "I'd rather be alive with no reputation than one of the honorable dead. You take all the honor in the world an tuck it in that big beard of yours, see if it puts food on the table, or protects you from cannon fire." She glances around to see if any soldiers are nearby listening, and turns to the group conspiratorially, whispering "No honor and no kings, no need for neither in Burrowdar."
She raises her glass in a toast, announcing, "To all us Scoundrels in the King's Lands!"
Karak raised an eyebrow at this. He didn't return the toast. "I don't think that ye understand honor." He replied. "Honor and reputation are two very different things. It doesn't matter if the world thinks ye have honor. Honor is something that ye have or ye don't. And while it won't put food on the table, or protect ye from cannon fire, it will give ye the strength to put yer life on the line to protect what's important to ye, even if it means risking everything. Such as a noble title. I'd rather be caught and thought a scoundrel if it means living with honor, than being of a high reputation as a coward." He finished his cup and looked at the bottom with disappointment. "Without honor, what's to stop someone from just selling the town out to the highest bidder?" He asked, raising the mug up to see if there were any errant drops still within.
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Malik watches the interplay between Viatrix and Karak, pouring himself a short ale, he leans on the bar, wiping his hands on his apron, Honor means a lot of things to a lot of different folks, for me, its about doing the right thing at the right time and being able to live with yourself after it. Lots of people have died all across the lands because of someone else's ideas about honor, but its all about what's inside each of us that counts. Its all about doing the right thing, not what some lord tells me. But I wouldn't want to push my views out on anyone else. To each their own! He says raising his glass in salute to the two at the bar.
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"Look, I don't have time for accurate meanings of words, I'm here to drink and relax." She carefully nurses her drink as Malik talks, listening with respect. After, she takes a sip and glances at Augustus. "Do you've any thoughts on honor, Ghost-man?"
You continue talking and getting drunk, and arise the next day, perhaps later than usual, and in Cra'rak's case feeling slightly more like a functioning Tengu.
"Hey, kid," a voice from outside. Him again. Titus, one of the soldiers quartering on their land, leaning against the doorjamb. Titus was real young, 14 like him, maybe 16 at the most, and the two teens had struck a fast friendship. Vargas liked to think there was more to it than that, though.
"Hey Ty," Vargas smiles, walking over to him. All the other kids his age Vargas had gotten along with had always been halflings or quarterlings like himself, never a human like Titus. He was used to feeling tall. Titus made him feel small, vulnerable. It was pleasant.
Viatrix awakens still drunk in the hayloft, the barncat Sven stepping on her face. "F*!!er, get off," she murmurs, pushing the cat, blearily rubbing her eyes and trying to not look to hard at anything. Gods, this hangover hurt more than usual. Only one thing for it.
Sven yowls as she rattles through a number of empty bottles atop the loft, before excitedly taking off across the rafters in chase of a mouse. "There's some," she winces, finding a not empty bottle. Quickly downing it, she rummages through her pockets until she finds a thin sheet of gelatin, which she rests on her tongue and allows to dissolve in her mouth. Alchemist's Kindness, the gentleman's hangover cure.
Suddenly and immediately sober, head quiet and no longer pounding, she struggles to find her footing, but catches herself. There's Vargas. She needed to talk to him about something, what was it? About the cannons maybe? Oh, and there's that soldier boy again. They're really chatty and- are they kissing?
"Vargas!" she yells from up top, quickly getting on the ladder and climbing on down. "Oh nononono, not under my roof, kiddo."
She marches right up to the both of them and shoves the soldier. "Get out."
Titus looks back to Vargas, confused. "Out!!" she screeches, pointing at the open doors.
The soldier leaves and Vargas stares dumbfounded at his older sister. "Sis, I were gonna tell you, but-"
"No buts, kid. This, this, you just, shouldn't!"
"He's my age! He's nice and funny, you'd like him! I like him, isn't that what's important?"
She turns and marches out the door, whistling for Victor. "Ain't no way I could ever find it in my bones to like someone like that."
"But I'm like that, Vee," Vargas pleads, chasing her.
She turns around to face him, disgust plain on her face. "By f+~&ing Nera, kid, this ain't about you being gay! This about you choosing to shack up with a soldier, on my land. One of the King's own men. Ain't no king never did nothing for us, Vargas, and none ever will."
Victor comes running, dusty and sweaty. "And-and-and these soldiers?" she continues, "Ift you'd seen what I seen, you'd know that none them your friend either. Leastwise your boyfriend. He may be looking all nice and pretty at you now, but when his army flattens Burrowdar and comes time to move on, you and I'll be dead with the rest of the town, while he and his army marches on, and you won't even be a memory."
Vargas punches her in the face. "Oh shit," he says, backing away. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh f+*+, I'm sorry, Vee. That was, I'm sorry."
Viatrix draws her gun and yanks Vargas's collar towards her. "Don't you ever! Hit. Me, again," she growls, resting the muzzle of the pistol against his stomach. "I taught you better'n that. Taught you never to start a fight you ain't prepared to finish." She flips the gun around and pushes it into his hand. "You wanna kiss your soldier? Over my dead body." She backs away, hands up, offering no resistance, before turning around and swinging herself up onto Victor's bare back.
She guides the horse close to him and leans down, snatching the pistol back.
"Break things off with your soldier boy. You and I need to have a talk when I get home."
As the horse trots off she calls back to him, "And swing by the stables! I bought a team of four white oxen, need you to pick em up!"
Vargas hesitantly waves goodbye to his sister. Where did they go from here?
In a bit of a lather, Viatrix arrives at the bookstore with a black eye, uncharacteristically early and fuming about something. "Hey Kaz, sorry, am I late? What time is it? Do you have any, any downers? I'm really up right now and I would like to not be." She glances around at the books and soberly realizes her mistake. "I don't think I've ever actually been here, I- I thought you ran a, like a pharmacy or something. This ain't a-" she trails off.
"F+#$ that then, do you have any liquor? I am having a rough go of it this morning."
Kazell lets Viatrix into the back room where they are going to have their meeting.
I don't drink, so I don't keep alcohol here, sorry. I have milk, water, and lemonade. Any of those sound good? Or I have hash browns, bacon, and eggs if you are interested in some breakfast.
Also, if you ever want to sleep here instead of your barn, you are welcome. I have a couple of guest rooms always ready. ... You still have a little hay in your hair. Want a little prestidigitation before the others arrive, or are you good?
Also, where'd you get the shiner? You want to talk about it over breakfast maybe? The others won't be here for quite a while, so we have plenty of time.
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He had become caught up in a cause which he didn't know if he really believed in. It had seemed right at first. Artillery was going to threaten the town, so he removed the threat. It was the kind of action which seemed right. To safeguard the people! But the aftermath of the action left him shaken. For Viatrix had wanted to murder the soldiers that they had captured, an act which Karak could not believe that Jarrett would condone. And her reason? It seemed to him to be a general dislike of authority. Something had happened to her in the past that left her hating the kings of both kingdom and all who followed them. He thought then, of his own noble title, granted centuries ago by the King of the West. In a way, he thought, that meant that he *should* be loyal to the West Kingdom. Did it not? He certainly did feel guilty for not being loyal. But his heart told him that a title meant nothing if it didn't stand for something, and that his home was Burrowdar which meant that he had to stand for it's people. But would she see it that way? She knew that he was a noble, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was going to put a bullet into his head when she got the opportunity. His title wasn't exactly a secret. He shuddered at the thought. He didn't want to believe it, but their discussion had shaken him as well. It was clear from talking to her over drinks that she did not believe in honor in any way that he recognized it. If she thought it right to murder him on the battlefield, why wouldn't she do it? Why would his life be any different than that of the soldiers she wanted to kill? He stopped and stared at his reflection in the breastplate. He came to the conclusion then and there. That he would keep an eye out on her.
But what of the others? Malik seemed like a good enough sort, and Kazell was reasonable enough. Neither had done or said anything that gave Karak pause. And Augustus came across as intelligent enough to play both sides, but hadn't done anything that would suggest treachery to their town. But at the end of the day he didn't know any of them well enough to really judge. Still, he supposed that as long as they were around Viatrix probably wouldn't kill him. Which meant that for his safety, he just had to be sure that they weren't alone together. Or at the very least that Cra'rak was nearby, for he was a friend of old that Karak knew that he could rely on. But Cra'rak was injured, fairly grievously, in the fight with the fey, and needed bed rest. He hoped that the Tengu would recover in time for what was to come.
He sighed and put the breastplate down, and looked unhappily into nothingness. He knew that worry over his own possible assassination wasn't what was really bothering him. It was the situation as a whole. He wondered whether he was really doing the right thing. The town of Burrowdar wasn't his! Yes, he lived there, but what right did he have to make decisions for everyone within it. What if his actions led to one of the Kingdoms turning on the townspeople, declaring the town itself to be an enemy? Nobody was consulted with this! It didn't feel right. But at the same time, so too was inaction.
The dwarf wondered, not for the first time, whether he should just leave. To take his mount and to ride off into the mountains to seek out his lost heritage. To swear himself to someone dwarven lord and to learn to live among his people. But he knew that he couldn't do that. Because at the end of the day the people of Burrowdar were his people, and like it or not he couldn't abandon them. So he prayed to Jarrett for guidance and for time to pass swifter, so that he wouldn't be stuck alone with his thoughts.
food. need food. hungry. thirsty. Cra'rak stared at himself in the filthy mirror in the bedroom of his little alchemist's shack. The scientist in him noted his glassy eyed stare and his slightly ajar beak. The part of him that told him to survive no matter what was telling him to eat something anything at all. He wondered dully how long he had been standing in front of the mirror. Neither part of his psyche was able to penetrate through the fog that clouded his mind. Hours passed, and Cra'rak stood, unmoving.
It wasn't that he couldn't think, he mused. It was merely that things that had seemed important simply did not anymore. Keeping up a good reputation. Figuring out how bodies worked. Saving Kesperex from the invading forces. Maintaining his honor as an honorary dwarf. Eating, drinking, even sleeping. All these things no longer seemed to have any meaning, and for the life of him he couldn't remember why he wanted to do them.
was i supposed to do something today? Dawn had come, and Cra'rak had moved from standing in front of the mirror collapsed on the floor. oh yes we had a meeting today. ambush planning. Cra'rak thought about getting up, but couldn't really see a point to it. He was happy here, just... existing. If he listened to his thoughts very hard, he was screaming at himself to get up, to do anything at all, but it would slip away from him. And so, Cra'rak merely lay there, and breathed.
Viatrix is taken aback by Kazell's very reasonable line of questioning. "I mean I was kind of expecting we'd just drink and we wouldn't talk about it," she mutters, embarrassed. "But breakfast sounds good?"
Over a plate of too much to eat, she starts, sipping lemonade and chewing the ice. "Vargas punched me. I found out he's dating one of the wind up toy soldiers camped out on our front lawn, and I, I didn't take kindly to it. He thought it was an attack on him being gay, what with our mom and all, gods watch her, but I laid out the line, said, kid, these men do not value our lives and that to be romantically involved with one was to set yourself up for heartbreak at best and he hit me. Mighta said it harsher than that but, not much."
She pulls another ice cube out with her fingers and sucks on it before chomping down and continuing. "We ain't never fought before, not even as tykes. And he always been kind and respectful since the fire, recognizing what I've given up for us both. He don't like schooling, but he's good about it. Smart, too."
The quarterling picks up the plate and holds it to her chest, leaning back.
"I think, because I was thirteen when our parents died and, now that he's, uh, older'n that, and-and-and now that he's officially lived longer without our parents than with them, he thinks he's an adult now."
She places a strip of bacon in her mouth, gently rocking. "Doesn't get that I had to be the adult, so that he could get to be a kid. Not that much of your childhood remains when your parents burn alive in a housefire, I s'ppose."
I see where you are coming from. Getting mixed up with soldiers can be scary, especially with what we're planning. ... You have to remember though, he's in love, or at least he thinks he is, and we're all a little bit insane when we're in love. I'm sure he regrets it. Hopefully he will step up and apologize.
It was definitely way out of line though. He needs to face up to that, and not solve his problems with his fists when his words will do. That's a tough lesson though, since words can be more frustrating.
Maybe you should think about letting him grow up a little. It's hard to let go when you feel so much responsibility, but maybe if you let him grow up, there's a little less pressure on you, you know? And maybe you can relax and find ways to live a little more... maybe even recapture some of that lost childhood by doing something fun once in a while.
More bacon?
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"I really don't know what to say. No, I do. More bacon, please." Viatrix seems to have generally calmed down, but doesn't say much more unprompted.
Kazell piles some more bacon on Vi's plate, continuing to listen and talk with the young woman until the meeting.
Agustus walks in about a half-hour after Viatrixand seeing Viatrix and Kazell enjoying breakfast together sits in a corner of the bookstore and motions to ask Kazells permission to peruse the collection.
Kazell motions to Augustus to feel free to peruse.
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Malik wanders over to the bookstore having gotten the Tavern up and running for the day, grumbling about the lack of soldiers paying, and then the townsfolk staying away. They don't pay for anything, and then that keeps my regulars away, anyway, how are the three of you?
Malik looks around the shop for a moment, before asking, Do any of you know anything about this Fey King? Its out of my depth, but maybe we should ask Sylvia about him, and what connection he has to her former student? Then maybe go scout the road? What do you all think?
Starting the meeting, informally as always, Kazell says
Good idea, Malik. We should definitely ask her, and I think scouting the road is important so we can pick the best spot for the ambush.
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Let's go ask her, we'll collect Cra'rak and Karak on our way out to Sylvia's the bard smiles as he leads the group out to Slyvia's house.
Malik greets each of them in turn, We're going to go ask Sylvia about the thing we encountered in the woods, and what's going on with the Fey, to try and get an idea of what nonsense we're stepping into there. Then we'll go take a look at this roadway and see what the good ideas are?
I think that's a great idea Cra'rak, it may help us with concealment, and create a distraction for the soldiers at the same time. Of course, it may mean whoever is stuck up there, but I think it's worth looking into!
The bard knocks upon Sylvia's door, and once they get inside will ask her about what's been going on:
Hi there Sylvia, we had a strange encounter with a talking giant maggoty looking thing who tried to warn us from the Fey King about not interfering with the horned huntsman. Any idea why, or what's going on with this? Obviously we're a little concerned, but we don't even know where to begin with this, and we've got two armies on our doorstep at the same time. Malik asks the wise woman when they arrive at her house.
"The Fey King, did he say? Hmmm, this is concerning. . . I did not know that the Mad Huntsman had allied himself with the Unseelie court. . . yes, the thing you describe, I believe, is called a Fear Eater- a truly nasty fey creature that lives on the fear it causes in others. You are lucky to have survived."
"I don't know what my former apprentice is playing at- but there must be something here he wants, something connected to the Fey. It could be that getting these armies of our doorsteps would only be the beginning of our troubles-- for if his throwing in lots with the West fails, he'll try something more direct, I'd wager."
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As the days went by, Karak visiting Cra'rak's home daily. He felt guilt over the state of his friend following their encounter with the horrific fey, and as such took it upon himself to nurse the tengu back to health. It was a slow process, especially given that Karak was anything but trained in the matter. If anything, it was mere time and bedrest which had gotten Cra'rak back on his feet. But Karak liked to think that bringing his friend food and giving company played a part as well.
-----
He listened as Sylvia spoke and chewed his lip in concern. It seemed like this land was not just gripped in a war between two mortal kingdoms, but rather a fey one as well. While he knew that if either human kingdom absorbed their town that there would likely be peace, of a sort, he was under no illusion of the damage that would be caused by this Mad Huntsman and the Unseelie Court. He looked to his companions to see how they would react, given that it seemed as if though they had more experience in this matter and had already built up a relationship.
Kazell is looking at a place where there is cover they can hide behind to get surprise, and also a place hopefully with high ground or trees or something where there are good positions for ranged attacks.
"It is good to be back. I cannot recommend experiencing those spores; they burrow into the flesh and destroy the ego." The Tengu's voice, normally raspy and harsh, is downright guttural from disuse.