|
|
Post by cassiusexgladio on May 26, 2017 15:25:50 GMT
The Capitol was different at night - oil lamps burnt brightly and so light and shadow danced around the city. Watchmen patrolled the streets.
The Northern gate of the city opened onto the Great River - during the day it would be plied by dozens of boats from small fishermen to great barges from the towns upriver. Now, however, it was dark and empty, most ships were safely moored.
A private ferry took the Chosen to the other side. There, they found steeds and provisions waiting for them. Soon enough, they were on their way.
The great paved road ran north, towards the Duchy of Arnavale. Days passed - the blazing heat of summer was tempered by the shield of clouds. They in turn brought heavy rain which was then followed by the sun's reemergence.
A rather uneventful week of travel passed, and the borders of Arnavale drew near.
The great road saw much two way traffic - but the closer the Chosen rode to Arnavale, the more traffic increased heading south and the more it decreased heading north. Instead of traders, many of those taking to the road were peasants, many carrying their belongings with them.
Further north along the road, now within Arnavale's borders proper. An small rickety wagon with a broken axle sits on the side of the road. It was heavily laden - someone had thought it wise to attempt to bring half their home with them. Some villagers stood around it - two men, one older, and one younger, were hard at work replacing the axle. Some women and children sat nearby, in the shade of a large sprawling oak that presided over the land near this section of road.
Were those claw marks on the wagon's side? Perhaps these folk had escaped one of the villages attacked by the beast folk.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Poopmok on May 26, 2017 20:44:18 GMT
Leonid seemed to act much differently then when he was at the capitol, now that they were on the road. His horse was packed with any alchemical ingredients he would need for his rituals, and the only actual weapon he had was a dagger strapped to his belt, mostly for skinning animals.
One thing he never really got used to was how brazen some women were down south, it wasn't like that at all in the North, but he wouldn't let this Orison put him down, that's for sure. He thought about this until he saw the peasants around the broken wagon, most likely a local family.
He examined the area around the family, making sure there wasn't anything dangerous lurking in the shadows. He saw the claw marks on the side of the wagon, and he figured he might be able to gain some information if he examined it. Most of Leonid's rituals involved animals, since using humans was too much of a hassle, so he was familiar in this area.
As he approached the little caravan with his dagger sheathed, he dismounted from his horse, hoping that Mateo would make the peasant group realize they're the real deal.
"What seems to be the issue here, my good man?" He said, looking at the older man.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by grasssea on May 26, 2017 22:12:52 GMT
Orison was something, that was for sure. Leo was reliable, as reliable as magicians got, but the woman wore her distance from the world like chainmail and that meant she had something to protect.
Mateo packed extra pills of rams horn and crushed emeralds and whole bottle of pickled boars hearts before they set out. His weapons were a given, and just in case any of his companions got bored, he included a deck of cards and dice. Group moral was important.
Despite these material preparations towards camaraderie, he didn't directly approach his companions as they crossed the river and set out on the road. A flask of fortified wine, guaranteed by a hedge sorcerer to make him stronger, was all the companionship he needed.
A drawn sword had never served Mateo ill, or at least hadn't gotten him into any fights he couldn't handle. He unstrapped his great sword, a huge, two handed monstrosity with an undulating blade and tried to look both threatening and likable. In his oiled leather armour, his hair braided away from his face, this wasn't hard. He was a southern boy by birth, but had spent plenty of time with the tribes of the north as a young man, giving him a sort of all around appeal. As he backed up Leo, he tried not to turn his back to Orison. She was still an unknown variable and historically those were dangerous.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by cassiusexgladio on May 27, 2017 16:27:13 GMT
"Can ye not see" The man replied. He wore a rough hempen smock, like most peasants, and his skin had been bronzed by the fiery sun. "Broken. Axle" He spit and muttered a prayer. "Prayed to the gods that we'd not 'ave an accident like this. Must not 'ave prayed well enough."
(Actions y'all can take include investigating the cart's strange damages, asking questions of the peasants, and in Leonid's case casting magic to perhaps see what kind of creature caused the marks. These are by no means a total of all actions you can do - just suggestions.)
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyanunix on May 27, 2017 17:15:04 GMT
Orison had packed herself, some extra clothes, and her weapons. As they approached the group, she took in the situation.
The people didn't seem to be a threat to her, but her right hand hovered over one of her daggers anyway; she held onto the reigns of her horse with the other. Small, willowy, and with wide eyes, she herself looked very nonthreatening. Her daggers could be seen as a just-in-case and her bow simply for hunting. It took her a moment to notice the women and children to the side, and when she did, she dismounted and walked over to the group, moving her hand from her dagger and instead using it to lead the horse over.
"Where are you all headed to?" she asked, after a brief greeting.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Poopmok on May 27, 2017 17:47:59 GMT
As with most shamans from the North, Leonid's magic mostly had to do with the living and nature, unlike the Southern warmages with their complex magical theorems. His magic ranged from healing although way to the darker side of blood magic, and he preferred to fight outside which was much more in his element.
After taking a brief look at the scratch marks along the cart, he went back to his horse to take out a casting rune. Leo let it rest on his palm, closing his eyes to mutter a brief incantation, and then the rune glowed a bright green, ready for action. Since this would be a simple spell for any mage, and could probably be done by a skilled huntsman, he didn't need to channel much power as he went over to the cart and ran the rune over the scratch marks along the cart, his eyes closed, hoping the rune would transfer an image in his mind, anything that could help pinpoint this creature.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by cassiusexgladio on May 27, 2017 18:56:40 GMT
A toddler bumbled about near some large gnarled roots poking out of the ground. A boy and a girl, not quite teens but most certainly not full children, were tossing acorns up at the great Oak's branches. It was noticeably cooler under the tree - the sprawling cover provided a welcome break from the blazing summer sun. A few others sat perched upon one of the tree's lower branches.
The women sat at the base of the tree. One of them, the group's go to spokeswoman, replied to Orison. "South. We have family in Hallaville. It will be hard starting again, but we have no choice after what happened to our village."
|
|
|
|
|
Post by cassiusexgladio on May 27, 2017 19:05:24 GMT
It was but a hazy silhouette that appeared to Leonid, but it was more than enough. Twin horns, curled like those of a ram. Large clawed hands. A muscular body covered in patches of fur. And blazing eyes in a bestial snarling wolf's head. One of the deep woods beast creatures had attacked this cart. It had not been alone - some of the scratches and divots belonged to others.
As Leonid carried out his investigation, the two men stepped away from the cart. "Oy! What do you think yer doing?" the younger asked, a little belligerently.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyanunix on May 27, 2017 19:15:43 GMT
Orison nodded sympathetically. "I understand. Your village was one of the ones attacked, then, by those monsters?" The claw marks on the cart had no escaped her. She glanced over to see how the men were doing, and sighed softly; it didn't seem to be going well.
Despite being an adult, Orison managed to seem both innocent and aware. "Sometimes, a fresh start is for the best, though I am sorry it happened this way. How many people were lost?" For no village consisted of so few people.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by grasssea on May 27, 2017 19:15:55 GMT
Now that the peasants had proven themselves not a threat, Mateo lowered his weapon and went about the less simple work of figuring out what had done this. Stabbing things was so much easier. He followed Orison, since she was clearly smarter than him, and gravitated to the children. Some women, and a solid fraction of men, tended to like him, but that was... complicated. Affairs of the heart and other blood laden organs often were. Oddly, for a man of his training and background, Mateo preferred to avoid the difficulties inherent in that region of life, with anyone. It closed off some avenues of manipulation for him, but he wasn't a manipulator at heart to begin with. Young people, who liked stories about monsters and brave escapes and generally didn't act like he was an idiot, were easier.
"You must have been very brave to escape the beasts who attacked you," he said to one of the older children with an air of friendliness. "I've met brave heroes felled by lesser beast. You are more heroic than your age belies. Don't worry, you're safe now. The Ruler will protect you here."
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Poopmok on May 27, 2017 19:18:06 GMT
Although nobody else could see it, once the images started appearing for Leo, his eyes rolled back and all that was left were the whites of his eyes, although from experience he knew this freaked peasants out, so he only opened his eyes once the images were finished.
He stood back up, the rune back to its original state, the little power invested in it already gone. "We are on a mission from the Ruler, and I couldn't help but notice these /marks/ along your cart," he said, the respect in his tone he had towards the older man immediately gone once the younger one showed up.
"Now I need to know, how did you all survive an attack from the beasts-of-the-woods?" It was a bit odd the peasants didn't immediately mention the attack, so he had to get to the bottom of this.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by cassiusexgladio on May 27, 2017 19:30:18 GMT
Orison nodded sympathetically. "I understand. Your village was one of the ones attacked, then, by those monsters?" The claw marks on the cart had no escaped her. She glanced over to see how the men were doing, and sighed softly; it didn't seem to be going well. Despite being an adult, Orison managed to seem both innocent and aware. "Sometimes, a fresh start is for the best, though I am sorry it happened this way. How many people were lost?" For no village consisted of so few people. One of the women, her blonde hair tightly braided, began to sob softly. The peasant woman's voice wavered as she spoke. "We numbered over a hundred, men, women, and children. Then they came. Out o' the forest. Brayin' an' hootin' and howling. We didn't have a chance. They killed those defending us first - ripped them to shreds. Then they turned on the village. They ransacked every house, started burning everything. We only survived because Old Gethan had a deep cellar that he used to store his turnips in." "The smoke was stiflin'. We thought we would all perish. And some o' us haven't breathed normally since. But we're alive at least. We dug our way out a few days later and found nothing left but bones - the meat stripped or scraped off, broken so they could get to the marrow." She dabbed at her eyes with her dress. "All that remains of the village we have on that cart." |
|
|
|
|
Post by cassiusexgladio on May 27, 2017 19:33:22 GMT
Now that the peasants had proven themselves not a threat, Mateo lowered his weapon and went about the less simple work of figuring out what had done this. Stabbing things was so much easier. He followed Orison, since she was clearly smarter than him, and gravitated to the children. Some women, and a solid fraction of men, tended to like him, but that was... complicated. Affairs of the heart and other blood laden organs often were. Oddly, for a man of his training and background, Mateo preferred to avoid the difficulties inherent in that region of life, with anyone. It closed off some avenues of manipulation for him, but he wasn't a manipulator at heart to begin with. Young people, who liked stories about monsters and brave escapes and generally didn't act like he was an idiot, were easier. "You must have been very brave to escape the beasts who attacked you," he said to one of the older children with an air of friendliness. "I've met brave heroes felled by lesser beast. You are more heroic than your age belies. Don't worry, you're safe now. The Ruler will protect you here." "I wasn't brave." the boy replied. "I was scared. We hid and hid and hoped the monsters wouldn't dig us out. And the soldiers all left days before! I bet they knew and ran!" One of the women shushed him with a hiss. "Stop saying such damned foolish nonsense. You should know better than to spout off like that." |
|
|
|
|
Post by cassiusexgladio on May 27, 2017 19:39:42 GMT
Although nobody else could see it, once the images started appearing for Leo, his eyes rolled back and all that was left were the whites of his eyes, although from experience he knew this freaked peasants out, so he only opened his eyes once the images were finished. He stood back up, the rune back to its original state, the little power invested in it already gone. "We are on a mission from the Ruler, and I couldn't help but notice these /marks/ along your cart," he said, the respect in his tone he had towards the older man immediately gone once the younger one showed up. "Now I need to know, how did you all survive an attack from the beasts-of-the-woods?" It was a bit odd the peasants didn't immediately mention the attack, so he had to get to the bottom of this. The younger man blanched and backed off. "Pardon me, sir. Din' mean nothin'." He waved his hands placatingly towards Leo as he stepped back. The older one sighed. "Should've figured from the magicken you were doin' there." "The women and children hid in a cellar." He continued "We found 'em when we came back to the village. Me and me son 'ad gone huntin'." The older man shook his head. "We came back to ash, burnt timber, and bones....everywhere bones. Not a single one that wasn't scraped clean o' meat and broken." |
|
|
|
|
Post by Poopmok on May 27, 2017 19:49:12 GMT
The story didn't sound too absurd to him, and wasn't anything new to him either. These attacks occurred from hostile tribes all the time, it was just unusual for the forest beasts to attack a protected village like that. There was usually plenty of food for them elsewhere, and it only further supported the theory that something else was controlling them. Unless their village really was such an easy target for the beasts, that is.
He spoke to the older man without any hostile tone, at least he knew who he was talking to. "I saw what hit you. A village like yours wouldn't have stood a chance. Not without soldiers, that's for sure."
He thought to himself for a few more moments before he spoke again. "And this Duke of yours. Shouldn't he have placed soldiers in the area if such a dangerous forest tribe was in the area?"
|
|
|
