Elarya Whitescale wrote: "It didn't kill anyone, though it got me pretty good. An' fer all we know it coulda thought the stone pretty. An' by yer reasoning, Sansa an' Dante should be run outta town. Are ye gonna do that too?"
Elarya glares at the elder. Her temper threatens to get the best of her, but the petite girl manages to keep it in check. Though she gets a peculiar feeling, she just shrugs it off.
"There is no reason for concern here, Elarya." Abram says with a calm expression.
"We are not expelling random folk just because they are different. We are simply asking Corvina to leave because she has brought a danger here."
The crowd seems somewhat torn, as they mumble and whisper about, some seem to share similar fears as the young woman warrior, and others are more upon the side of the council.
When Amara searches the expression of Samel, she finds him strangely hard to read. His face shows no emotion, he eyes seem lost in the middle of the room.
Abram speaks again, shaking his head.
"People, people. My utmost concern is for your safety. The council has never steered you wrong before. We just need to remove this threat. Corvina will simply go on her way. She will find a life elsewhere. To use an old saying, "We cannot allow bad fruit to spoil our crop.""
They crowd slowly quiets, and as Garrett watches his father, he notices him persistently tapping his belt buckle.
Elarya Whitescale wrote: "WHAT PROOF HAVE YE!"
Elayra's voice rings out above the din of excited conversation. Her eyes locked with Abram's. She hadn't done more than cock an eyebrow at Jerem's theatrics, and blushed slightly at Abram's praise, but she refused to stay silent when someone was going to be run out of their home on nothing more than suspicions and rumors.
"What proof have ye that Corvina did this? Have ye even given her a chance to explain her part in this?" she asks again once the noise had quieted.
Abram nods at Garrett, and dryly responds to Elarya and the waiting townsfolk,
"We are not unreasonable, Elarya. The proof you ask for is in your own experience. Garrett and Sansa told us of the encounter, and how the "dragon" was after the stone. We know from Dante that this very stone was created by Corvina. We simply cannot risk the danger of that happening again. What if a child was hurt? Or...killed? Her ways are mysterious, and her magic is dangerous. For the safety of all the folk of Solace, she must go."
The rest of the council stands silently behind Abram, their faces calm and seemingly deliberate. They only nod when Abram finishes speaking.
moments later, Abram and the other council members enter the room from their deliberations in the back.
Everett Snows stands with the others, Wallace and Samel, and they all regard Abram as he clears his throat and addresses the town.
"Now, now...settle down, people. Please. We would have words with you."
He gestures at Jerem.
"We owe you a great debt, Jerem Cor. Although your ways are new to us, it is now doubt that there has been a threat come to Solace. There is power in your prayers, and we will consider your words, and thank you."
He then finds each of the young people in the crowd. And look at you all with a deep and genuine smile.
"And you, brave souls. We have not forgotten you. You stood against this threat as well, and triumphed. It is clear that you are valuable members of our community.
We thank you, Havak for your ingenuity and quick thinking in our defense.
We thank you, Amara for your swift bow.
We thank you, Garrett and Elarya for your arms and blades.
and we thank you, Sansa and Dante for your care and defense as well."
His face turns more solemn then,
"But there is more, good folk. We have discussed it with great lenght, and it seems that this is all caused by Corvina."
He gives a quick point in the direction of her hut.
"Her ways have always been...curious. But this has gone too far. She has brought a dark magic here, and in turn, those creatures came looking for it. This can go on no more. She has done us wrong, but we are civil folk, and no lives were lost. She is banished. The council will speak with her after this meeting, and she will be allowed one day to gather her things."
Sansa Allende wrote:
Pivoting gracefully and facing the Elderman, Sansa speaks with a perplexed look upon her pale face, "Elder Abram, are you confident Jerem banished them for good? How can anyone be certain of this?" Again, her voice is calm, neutral, simply enquiring. Her mismatch eyes stare unblinkingly up at the older man, waiting for his answer, the gold and silver bright in the shadowed confines of the room.
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+7
Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa sees Garrett's look and pretends she has not. She is waiting to hear from Elder Abram and nothing would sway her. She would leave with Dante and Garrett once the Elderman had answered her.
A bit perplexed at the young girl's insistence, Abram nevertheless regards her question.
"It is true, Sansa, we cannot be sure. With such things as this, only time can tell us with any certainty. The gods are not to be trifled with, which is one reason noone calls them by name any longer. That Jerem was even able to do this feat is strange enough. It's true that more should be learned of his so called "One". I have much to think on."
Then, nodding to Garrett;
"Do have your father come by in the morning, and we'll try to get some more answers. You all were right to bring this to me, the council will have to speak to Corvina about this as well."
Garrett, Sansa and Rook
Abrams eyes widen after the teens tell their tales, and glances concernedly at Dante who had been standing quietly in the back.
Taking the wrapped sheet with the creature's remains from Garrett, he places it on the table and peels back the bloody cloth from the body and stares at the bisected carcass.
"This is quite troublesome. A smaller creature was in town earlier. Amara Sontan, and the goblin Havak fought such a creature.
I think that perhaps the new man, Jerem has invoked his god and banished any that are left, but you are right. If this creature was a dragon...and was looking for these stones, It is much more troublesome than I had thought. I will consult the council, young Snow, but I need to think on this."
Still looking a bit stunned, Abram nods.
"Yes, on my rounds to warn the folk, I'll see if anyone can help. Perhaps we can end this threat before it becomes a bigger problem."
With that, he takes one of the nearby townsfolk (the other man that was working on the mill) and hurries off.
Amara Sontan wrote: "I too would have liked to have kept it alive and learned more of it but it didn't give us much choice."
She removes the pieces of shell from her pack and shows them to Abram. "We found a nest; there are at least the other hatchlings and possibly a parent or two around. What do you know of them Abram? Do we need to warn the townsfolk?."
Amara's concern for her family and the other people in the town show plainly on her face. Maybe they will stay in the forest, we can only hope.
Abram frowns now.
"Unfortunately, I know only stories. What tales I have heard say that there were, long long ago winged serpents. The tales say that long before dragons, there were serpents like these. The serpents were powerful and swift, but they were jealous of limbs of goblin and elf and went to war with them. It was told that they were all driven away, but I thought they were just stories."
Considering the information about more of the beasts, he looks panicked for a mere moment, but composes himself.
"Yes, If there are more, we should have the other folk be on the lookout, and get indoors if they are seen. I'll have Nash begin to tell the others and I'll speak to who I can as well."
Havak wrote: "the creature cast a charm spell on you. Amara and Havak killed it" "A charm spell? That is disturbing."
Abram seems to compose himself. "It was young, so I'm saddened that it started a new cycle before its time, but it seems it is...was, very dangerous. The stories I've heard of things like this may have more truth to them than I gave credit." Then, looking to Amara; "There were more of these things you say?
After several moments, Abrams seems to come to his senses, and takes a deep breath, as if coming up for air suddenly. He looks around with a panicked look, and his eyes show confusion.
"Havak, I...I think I'm alright. What just happened?"
Amara Sontan wrote: Amara looks at Havak quizically when she hears his request but, eager to return to the topic of her creature, explains the circumstances leading to her possession of it and asks again. "Do you have any idea what it could be?" she glances at the bag with concern, "I was thinking about putting it in a lobster trap to hold it for now, what would you advise?" "Hmm? Oh, yes. The creature."
"Well, I've not seen anything like that before, but I've heard stories. Ridiculous mostly...tales of flying serpents and the like, and folk's imagination goes wild. I don't think It's anything to be worried about my dear. But I think you should give the creature to me, for now. It may be dangerous, and I wouldn't want you getting hurt."
His eyes seem rather dull and serious as he reaches out for the bag, and his face slackens slightly.
Abram straightens himself, and bends backwards a bit, cracking his back.
"Not at all, Amara. Always happy to spend a minute, or lend a hand."
He smiles and takes the sack from her with a curious look on his eye, and opens the bag slightly, peering in. "Oh, my." He says, now looking even more puzzled. He closes the bag quickly. "Where did this creature come from?"
Then, turning to Havak with a distracted look coming over him, Abram says; "Moonsilver? Hmm...well, ahem." He hands the bag back to Amara. "If there is any about here, It'd likely be by the graveyard. Havak, when we lay our dead to rest, it is just that. Rest. They sleep in the earth as their spirits move towards being born again and the cycle moves around. As long as they aren't disturbed...their rest I mean...I suppose there is no harm."
Abram is found sitting on a short stack of planks by the river, with the townsfolk that had been working on the windmill. He seems jovial, yammering back and forth with the other men. Each of them are eating rolls and sipping from mugs. They are dirty from the work, flushed and seemingly in good spirits.
Abram looks up at the small group approaching him, and nods at the man nearest him whom you recognize as Nash (a rather tall and broad man, who wears a very thick mustache), before turning to them with a warm smile.
"Yes?"
Abram's face takes on a more serious countenance as Elarya explains the request. He looks puzzled, but soon again his face is relaxed and he grins.
"As long as there is proper respect, and no bodies are disturbed, I can't see the harm. As for helping, I appreciate the offer, my girl, but I think we can handle it, despite all our extra thumbs." With that he gives Elarya a friendly pat on the arm and goes back to work.
It doesn't take long for Elarya to find Abram, he is soon found by the windmill. Several other townsfolk, him included, work and talk as they continue the work of putting the thing together. I had been a slow construction, but the last few days had seen more progress than in quite some time.
"...and then, the little bugger bit him" says a man to Abram as he nails in one of the lower planks.
Abram looks up at Elarya as she approaches with his customary warm smile. Seeing the purpose in her stride, he stands and his posture eases a bit, shifting to a more formal mode. Leaning the board in his hand against the windmill, he wipes his brow and scratches his beard.
"Good day to you Elarya. Have you come to help us old men with this arduous task?"
Abram sat on a small wooden stool with hands folded in his lap, as he sat quietly in the little herb garden. Looking up as the avian voice came whispering on the wind to his ear, he huffed quietly.
"No, Rook, everything is as it should be. We fish, and hunt, and graze and build. It is the proper cycle."
After a few seconds, he rose from his spot, placing a small root that had been in his hand in the ground, and pushing it deep into the soil with his thumb. He dusts his hands off briskly, almost as an afterthought, and gives a casual wave to Jenzie Sontan as she brings out a bowl of mash for the family dog.
His gaze, ever watchful, passes attentively as he scans the surrounds, and pauses, only for a moment on Dante, and with a brief nod of acknowledgement, walks over to another citizen to talk to them briefly as the put another board on the windmill.
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