The moment the patch of the scroll is removed from the fabric of the cloak, it dissolves into a cloud of dense purple smoke that renders everything caught within unobservable. It clears away in an instant, and Thosar finds a scroll of parchment covered with crisp writing clutched in his hand.
Unrolling the scroll reveals the writing to be magical formulae that describes a relatively simple spell that allows for the absorption and expulsion of elemental energies directed at the caster.
((This is Absorb Elements, which is a spell out of the Elemental Evil supplements. I can provide the text if needed))
That is quite the claim, being the god of storms. Galen seems largely unaffected by the revelation. It is something that people may not readily accept: anybody can claim to be a god, but just the claim does not make it true; people will demand some kind of proof.
He falls silent for a moment before continuing: I will keep an open mind on this matter.
At the wagon, Galen watches as Thosar draws forth a scroll from the cloak. When the elf begins inspecting it, he imparts what may be the greatest of precautionary advice that has ever been known: "Careful; it might be the kind that goes 'Boom.'"
"This one works to the contrary. It helps to mitigate...'booms'. " Thosar slips the scroll into a case in his pack and takes out a pipe and fills it, Anyone looking will notice that it has several other scrolls within. "Galen was it? I take it you have your own reasons for being in Telmur in the first place, so I'll simply ask what skills you take with you as you leave. I take it you know how to shoot that longbow, for instance."
Nyx chuckles to herself at Galen's comment on Keranos' claims of godhood, and heads towards the wagon.
Once the rest are done talking she speaks up, "Welcome to our strange little group you two... Looks like weirder from here out, so I hope you two stick around, I suspect we will need all the help we can get. By the way, I am Nyx 'Badger' Nackle. You can just call me Nyx if you like."
She then takes out bottle out of her bag, only to realize it is empty. "Had I known we wouldn't have time to shop after the parade I would have tried to wake up earlier to get some extra supplies..."
Keranos would know Boccob to be a god who is as knowledgeable as he is aloof. He knows every spell ever created, and can travel to any time and place he pleases, even traveling planes and realities so fell that even the unfathomable beings worshiped by the aboleths dare not tread. But he is also known by the epithet "Boccob the Uncaring," drawing his attention and intervention would indeed be a notable occasion.
Their destination decided, Barrow urges the wagon horses forward with a few quick snaps of the reins. He retraces the path of their exodus, traveling back down the frontage road that they had taken to follow the mysterious summons. The road draws near enough to the castle that they are afforded a closer view as they pass it by.
The cocoon surrounding the tower is of an indeterminate state of matter. It appears to be solid, but also it also has veins and inclusions of darker matter that slowly drift across its translucent surface as though it were fluid. The hulking mass of the tower is evident, but the barrier distorts and obscures the light, rendering it a dark, indistinct shape whose outline is constantly changing with the flowing variance of composition of the shell. At one point, the road bends close enough to the remains of the city before reaching back out towards the main road that it becomes possible to witness the ground immediately at the base of the tower. There is a margin of gray, ashen soil, as though the raising of the thing has cremated the earth. It seems to make an sporadic, audible crackling sound.
When the frontage road meets the main thoroughfare, Barrow turns the cart away from tower to head south toward the river and the nameless village they had camped outside only the night before last. The way is littered with the bodies of the trampled as others who look to have been killed by other means for motives unknown. There are still a large number of the living here as well; they wail in despair or madness, search for their loved ones, or wander aimlessly with a slack-jawed blank look on their face. A horse with two broken legs lays on its side, screaming, still harnessed to its capsized wagon. Castle Telmur hosted a regiment of military forces, but theres no sign of them. No authorities, no organization, no real assistance. The glue of society has come undone.
The sea of thousands of peopleonly a fraction of what must have been within the walls of the city when the tower descendedelongates southward as it creeps along at walking pace. They clearly have no idea where to go, but also know that they cant remain where they are. Barrow is quiet and restrained as he maneuvers the wagon through the traumatized throngs. It is the only vehicle on the road, and thankfully people seem to retain some sort of autonomic response to step to the side when they hear it coming, so the going is not as slow as it could be.
Night begins to fall, and they are still some distance from the village and the crossroads. Barrow looks more than a bit wary. Were goin thave to bed down fer the night, soon, he says. These people, they be hungry, thirsty, and cold. We start a fire where they can see, we could be drawin unwanted attention our way.
Fhiess is shaken by the horrors that cascade from the point of the massive crash. Lifeless bodies of hundreds, the hurt groans of the dying animal, and the despair of those remaining; for the people to suddenly have their lives and well being taken from them by an object collapsing their city in a single instant puts sadness in his voice, "It's... it's worse than I had hoped. Oh, gods." He puts his face in his palm, fighting the urge to weep, "This brush was supposed to grant fortune.." He shakes his head.
When Barrow introduces the predicament towards survival, his mind turns to how some materials are boiled, leading him to suggests, "If we had a source of water and a way to boil it in the wagon, perhaps we could try trapping steam inside where nobody can see it."
I don't see what Boccob has to do with anything. In fact I find Boccob rather useless, and hardly consider him a part of any pantheon at all. To answer your question, though, I was awoken to my true nature by being struck by a bolt of lightning as I tended to the fields in my parents' farm, in the village of Almsville.
Tears stream down Keranos's face as the wagon makes its way through the grim scene, though he does not weep. In his haste to find Pip and Tom, he had not comprehended the magnitude of this scene on his first visit. His body shivers and trembles.
"This will not do," he says aloud. "We must help these people."
He looks around at his companions. "I will not stop you from seeking out a more secure location, but I implore you all to stay here with me. There is much we can do to make a difference for these people.
"Ludwig," he says. "You are a builder. Are you willing to help set up makeshift shelters along the road?
"Nyx and Galen. Can you organize a hunting party from among the refugees and see to gathering some food for these people?
"Thosar. I must admit that your talents are unknown to me, but surely there are spells that might be of use in such a situation?
"Fhiess. Can you look for unaccompanied children and gather them to a centralized location?
"Sagishi. Can you set up a patrol? There are no doubt scoundrels about who would take advantage of the weak among the crowd. We must do our part to help ensure their security.
"As for me. I will gather up any clerics I can find and set up a triage tent to help as many of the wounded as possible. I fully intend to work through the night; I will not ask the same of you, but if you could at least assist me in getting things started then I think we can make a huge difference here."
Fhiess seems uncertain, "Is it really possible to do all of these huge tasks in such a short time and with the resources we have?" An idea chimes in his head, "You made friends with the tieflings quickly, right? What if we sought their aid and help them prove that they are good people to the citizens in need? Perhaps I could go talk to them, it would be good practice in learning to make agreements with people."
Ludwig walks along with the wagon, trying to keep a straight face in regards to the sights before him. Horror has befallen this town, and tragedy is visible at every corner. It is a disaster of most dire proportions.
At the same time, Ludwig sees hope for a better future. The disaster has blown away all traces of government and state-run society. If these people can rebuild, can get up and tug on their bootstraps hard enough, they can reach utopia.
Ludwig nods in agreement with Barrow. "Yes, anything we do could draw attention, and that's not just a problem for us, but them. Banking on handouts when they should be getting what they need on their own will just make them dependent all over again and less likely to pull through when we leave."
The J'raffa looks skeptically at Keranos. "Too much aid will leave them unable to help themselves. But still, some privately supplied assistance for those in the most dire straits shouldn't destroy their ability to self-help. Building shelters takes time, more time than we have. I could maybe put up a squalid portion of a hut tonight, but it would be better to teach the survivors how to build their own shelters, so they can keep going and eventually rebuild houses after we've left."
To that end, if the party is on board with helping the refugees, he'll walk along the road to where some shelters can be built. Ludwig gets in line of sight for a group of people and loudly says "People of this village! In these trying times, you will need shelters to protect against the elements. I am a carpenter, and while I won't be here long enough to lead reconstruction, I can show the able-bodied the basics of house construction so things can get done faster. Who's willing?"
Ludwig waits, and gives a basic crash course on carpentry to those who come forth, complete with what tools to use, how to best improvise them, and how to go about setting up a hut. If no one comes forth, he leaves in disgust without building a shanty.
On the way back to the wagon, he travels through the town to heal the people with life threatening injuries until his lay on hooves powers are expended for the night. Should there not be enough people, he'll heal the horse, figuring that doing so just saved someone's business. Once back, he'll rest unless a watch is needed and no one else is covering it.
Keranos smiles and lays a friendly hand in Fhiess's shoulder. "That's the spirit! I have my doubts that our tiefling friends are anywhere near here, but recruiting others to help is a fine idea. And by all means, do not feel obligated to follow my instructions; help in whatever way you see fit!"
To Ludwig, he scratches his head. "I didnt mean full scale houses, I merely meant a support structure to throw a sheet over, perhaps to protect from the wind and maybe rain. But help however you see fit. Surely there is room for charity in your libertarian utopia. Especially that which does not come from the government!"
He then heads into the crowd to search for able-bodied clerics and medics, using his amplified voice where appropriate.
Galen extends a hand to Thosar. Galen Keene. I am afraid my skills may have faded some over the years, seeing as they have not seen too much use, so I shall refrain from much comment on them. The longbow, however, was a something of a specialty of mine.
After Nyx speaks, Galen turns to her. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nyx.
Galen watches the scene as they pass through. The once prosperous city has become a site of desolation and despair, full of death and pain. It is not something he would have wished to see. When Keranos declares his intent to provide some amount of aid, Galen quickly voices his agreement.
You are correct; we must help. To just pass through, to leave these people like this without doing anything, it would not be right. If we want to see any good in this, any glimmer of hope, we must act, for it may well be that we are the only ones who will; to do otherwise would be to let what good could be done pass by. Of course I will do what I can.
"I think you are vastly underestimating what these people are capable of. Not that I won't help of course, they are afraid and confused right now and could use some assistance or perhaps some direction, so maybe a little bit of leadership would be in order. But I'm sure at the end of the day, these people know how to take care of themselves." Nyx exclaims. She then whistles and Nook crawls out of his hiding spot in the wagon, "Come on Nook, tonight we hunt!"
The elf takes Galen's hand in greeting. "Thosar. I am a cleric of Boccob, scholar, and former apprentice within a nearby university." He glances into the city briefly. "Or at least I used to be."
Thosar is silent, but holds a grim look as the party passes through the mass of suffering and death. His former home destroyed, Thosar's wish for escape has been granted, but not anywhere close to the way he'd wanted. Keranos' valiant effort to organize some relief is admirable, but there are just so many.
"I have some healing spells, can mend broken tools and clothing, or light fires quickly if we have some wood. Beyond that... really this is beyond my magic to help significantly. Perhaps provide a small bit of guidance to any healers we find. We simply don't have the numbers to deal with this many people unless someone can organize them as well as a response. If you can find leaders, people who've got wits enough about them at least, you can organize groups through them."
He mulls the problem further. "Feiss, I know you aren't one for song, but this crowd could use a little inspiration right about now. Perhaps a speech, give them some semblance of normalcy, organization, and most of all hope. Just make sure they can hear you." He puts a hand on the young elf's shoulder to say a small prayer. "Let the light of knowledge guide your understanding."
((Casting Guidance on Fhiess, add 1d4 to your next ability check))
Fhiess glances out of the wagon, answering the growing chill with pulling his cloak tighter. He surveys how safe it is before hopping off, "I will look for the tieflings, but if I don't find any sign of them I will hope to ease the hearts of anybody I find that's willing to listen."
((Hey all, I'm going to be in Orlando theme parks through Wednesday so I'm not sure if I'll be able to post much. Don't wait too long for me if it's time to move on.
Axel, I hope you killed the Bar Exam. I hope the results come back quicker for you than the CPA exam results took for me.
Mike, I hope you got the Wizards job! Let us know if you do!))
((I'm nursing my kid post-tonsillectomy, so sorry I've been slow to post for the past several days. The Wizards position is a moonshot thing for me, but I still checked off their requirements. I've got lots of experience in technical writing and editing that I'm trying to leverage into an editor position somewhere, but none of my job titles have ever reflected that, so... Damn.))
Barrow pulls the wagon off the side of the road into a nearby field as the sun slips beneath the horizon. The streams of energy emanating from the top of the tower's chrysalis glow clearly now, sitting at the epicenter of a fracture in the night sky.
Nyx slips off into the woods with Nook in an attempt to track down something for everyone to eat, but to call game scarce would be to understate it in the extreme. All wildlife in the immediate area seems to have fled in the wake of the tower's arrival; there isn't so much as a moth flitting about the boughs of trees tonight.
On Keranos's suggestion, Ludwig gathers his carpentry tools in the hope of instructing some of the refugees on the construction of rudimentary shelters, but has little success owing to the fact he has the only set of tools that can currently be located, and there's a distinct lack of raw materials from which to construct anything.
Thosar and Keranos are able to draw upon their clerical background to assist in treating as many wounds as they can, but it seems like attempting to drain the ocean with a pair of buckets. Fortunately, their efforts attract the attention of a few clerics and monks who have managed to escape the catastrophe, and soon their efforts are multiplied; a few of the clerics are advanced enough to have mastered the art of conjuring food and water from divine energy.
Some of the refugees with their wits still about them get a series of fires going, but there's not much to be found for fuel except the green wood of nearby trees, so they put out more smoke than heat and light for their efforts. Though there's a lack of food, warmth, and shelter, the immediate area turns into a makeshift campground, the people huddling together on the cold ground to share body heat.
In the distance to the south and west, pinpricks of light dot the horizon, undulating with motion like fireflies dancing over a meadow on summer night.
Ludwig puts forth a valiant effort to teach the refugees how to build for themselves, but alas, they just don't seem to want it enough. No one seems willing to try and improvise tools based off of how he's explained that they work, and for some reason a lot of them are hung up on Ludwig describing how to grip tools using their mouths. If they want to use their hands, fine, but no need to derail the whole lesson over it. In between that and an unwilling to pull up on their bootstraps and tear down trees for materials, Ludwig sadly writes it off as a lost cause. He did what he could to help, but some people just want to wait for a handout.
Having done what he can on the carpentry front, Ludwig walks through the broken down town and looks closely at the triage. With his current amount of market-imbued power, he can take about twenty people away from the edge of death. If there aren't that many people in severely critical condition, he'll lend his powers to treating some of the larger injuries or cleansing a few diseases. Normally, he'd charge for this as the best medical treatment comes from private practice at private prices. But for this situation, he makes an exception. Once he's used up his healing power, at and away from the healing station, Ludwig makes his way back to the wagon.
The J'raffa was about ready to go to sleep, but some lights on the horizon catch his attention. His curiosity getting the better of him, Ludwig starts trotting that way to investigate.
After a few hours of using healing spells, providing guidance to healers, and stabilizing those on death's door Thosar is spent both physically and mentally. The assistance from those surviving bards, monks, paladins, and clerics gives him some hope that many will survive to see the light of another dawn. But what about further down the road? Where will these people go? How will they survive as individuals or as a community? They need sustenance and shelter but they also need a leader to keep chaos from taking hold.
Worry biting at his heels, Thosar finds himself unable to rest. Normally, he would be reluctant to take any sort action to intervene among downtrodden, but this mass of people cannot be ignored. He walks among throngs, seeking out those who look stronger, more capable, and especially more magnetic. He whispers an impassioned plea to his God as he begins to walk among the crowd. "Boccob, help me find an answer for these people. Help me seek out someone capable of guiding them so that at least some knowledge can be preserved among them." ((Casting guidance on self, then rolling Investigation for the search. 20+5+2=27))
Successful or not, he finds himself gazing towards the dancing lights in the distant night sky later on. He peers at them suspiciously, presuming an origin like the tower's. He finds himself walking beside Ludwig in the same direction. "I'm not sure I like the look of that." ((In case it's something he might know: Arcana roll of 3+7=10. Or not...))
How long have I been awake? Keranos thinks numbly to himself as he sets the bone of a young man who had been trampled during the initial exodus from the city. The resulting wail of pain from the man falls on dead ears.
The answer to Keranos's question escapes him, and his mind feels too sluggish to be of any use in figuring it out.
All around him is a haze. A haze of people, a haze of bandages, a haze of voices. Somehow, the notion that he needs rest, that he has been through a trauma, and that he is barely holding it together does not occur to him.
"Thosar," he says, "Please hand me a ba-"
Thosar is gone.
For the first time in hours, Keranos stands up and looks around. No sign of the cleric.
He closes his eyes and separates his consciousness from his body. He flies upward to get a better view.
There, in the distance! His vision is blurry in this fatigued state, but Ludwig is easy to spot, and that looks like Thosar beside him.
Keranos returns to his physical body and hastily bandages his patient. He hands the man off to another, fresher cleric, and bolts off in Thosar's direction, with a blend of unfocused anger and piqued curiosity fueling him.
As the night deepens, the bobbing lights draw ever nearer, accompanied by the sound of distant thunder that eventually becomes recognizable as the footfalls of legions of horses.
Out of the darkness, two battalions of Kingsfort Rangers--the ones coming from the south wearing a cloak clasp in the shape of a portcullis, those from the west in the shape from a sword--approach on horseback, lanterns dangling from their saddlebags to light their way. This appears to be only the first wave, as more lights are on the horizon.
As the battalions converge in the ruined remains of the village, they draw up short before the towering Ludwig and the decidedly more conventional-appearing Thosar and Keranos. The two commanding officers spur their skittish horses forward toward the three. The Kingsword Rangers are led by a hugely muscled middle aged woman, while the Kingsgate contingent is by a more gracile high elf.
"Gods be good," the woman says in a gravely voice, looking past the Endowed toward the pulsing violet shell that stands over the tower. "It's even worse than I imagined."
Keranos staggers a few steps forward. "These people are suffering," he declares. "Please tell me you've come prepared to help them. There is a cluster of clerics doing all they can, but..." He trails off and half falls to one knee. "Food and medical supplies are dangerously low. People are sleeping on the road, bereft of any sort of shelter." He takes a second to glare at Ludwig. "I am a God but I am not yet at full power and I just want to help but it's just so much and Idon'tknowhowlongIcankeepthisupbutIcan'tjustgiveup..." His speech descends into gibberish. He breaks down into a quietly sobbing mess and collapses to his hands and knees.
Having wandered off, time and his surroundings take a toll on his well being quickly. The freezing touch of the darkened sky makes him shrivel. He looks all about him. Families already huddled, men and women wandering by through the dust, brushing past. Seeing it so close, it makes the elf realize that there is nobody that would welcome him enough to let him talk to them; there are no signs of the tiefling gathering that was met earlier, either.
Defeated, and with no food or warmth to give anyone, he turns to begin moving back to the wagon.
After Keranos breaks down, Thosar steps forward. "It's true the situation is dire here, but not irrecoverable. These people need food, shelter, and leadership. We are too few to care for all those who need help." While providing details on the situation, he notices Fhiess approaching. No Tiefling in tow.
"You didn't find them...good. Superstition could take hold at times like these." He slumps some, clearly looking tired at this point. He motions to the huddled godling next to him. "Could you help me get Keranos a place to rest? I don't trust him to walk in this state."
Ludwig stifles a sigh as the lights turn out to be government agencies. Just what these people needed; they're already down on their luck struggling to rebuild, and now the state is returning to take away their silver lining of freedom. It'll probably only be a day or two before something like a kingdom emergency management agency rolls in and makes everything exponentially worse.
He bristles at Keranos's glare and insinuation, as if the kid is suggesting that it's somehow his fault these people don't want to help themselves enough. No need to make a scene now though. Making an effort to not be standoffish, Ludwig says "Yeah, things are bad down there. They're low on food, don't seem to want to work on shelters, and..." Ludwig trails off as he notices the rangers and kingsguard are staring past he ruins and to the shell around the tower. "Ah, yes, that situation's pretty bad too."
So much for not making a scene, Ludwig thinks as Keranos breaks down. Thosar and Fheiss seem to have escorting the godling under control, so the J'raffa awkwardly watches them walk with him before looking back to the battalions before him. "Well then, now we know what those lights were. Guess I should be getting back with them."
Ludwig leaves hoping that the two groups are too occupied with the tower to force their will back on the recovering village.
((Have I mentioned how much I enjoy reading about the adventures of Ludwig, the Anarchist Crusader? A very girraffic character.))
"I don't suppose you could prepare something for Keranos to sleep on, Ludwig?" Thosar looks up at the tall creature,then back toward the brigades. "Assuming they will assist, I believe we can be on our way by dawn tomorrow. I want as much distance from this damned city as possible."
His face is a mix of contempt and grief. So much lost, for what? If this is over some old grudge, there will be hell to pay.
((Haha, thanks. Glad to hear the talking giraffe/freedom paladin turned up to 11 is working out so far. ))
"Building a whole bed would be silly of course, but while this isn't really a carpentry situation, I'm sure I can throw together something to sleep on based off what we've got. We may already even have sleeping mats on hand."
Ludwig nods in agreement. "Yeah, the sooner we can get moving, the better. There's enough around here for these people to get back on their feet. They have the means, it's just a matter of when it happens. If that earlier stuff's to be believed, we're needed elsewhere. We can't exactly fix the world if we try to stop and fix every little thing in the world." He glances over at Keranos as he says that last bit. "Now then, let's see about setting up for the night. What have we got on hoof here?"
((Sorry, I had a lot going on those last two weeks. I swear, I'll make it up for it with a super awesome flashback scene for Sagishi, once I have taken care of this one thing...))
In contrast to the commander of the Kingsword troops, the smooth and youthful features of the high elf at the head of the Kingsgate battalion pulls into an almost irritated expression as he takes in the scene that lays before him.
"An endless, endless sea of nost-n'taurn lays before us," he says slowly with an inflection that speaks of aristocracy and culture. Wheeling his horse around, he addresses his troops. "We will use the wagons carrying the siege equipment to evacuate these helpless subjects when they arrive. Tonight, we strike camp here and provide what services we can. Each healer will be accompanied by no fewer than two soldiers to guard against those who might use the situation an excuse to indulge in their basest instincts. The rest of you, form up in to squads of four men each and sweep the survivors. I want every able body willing to raise sword and shield against this threat. I trust you men to engage in the proper protocols and procedures to... Encourage those who might have difficulty finding their obligation to the kingdom."
Anyone who can speak Elven:
"nost-n'taurn" means "Low-born."
With military efficiency, the word of the elf's orders is spread through the ranks, and the clerics set off with their escorts in tow. The march of the Kingsword troops is a little less crisp, a little less quick to respond to their commanding officer's orders, but sort themselves in much the same manner as the Kingsgate rangers and ride toward the leading edge of the refugees. A particularly noteworthy distinction between the two battalions is that the Kingsgate have left their provisions and bedrolls behind, while on more than one occasion a Kingsword trooper is witnessed sharing what shelter, bread, and/or water. It is nowhere near enough, it scarcely even amounts to more than a rounding error given the tremendous magnitude of the crisis before them.
"Hm," grumbles Barrow as he joins the others. "'Bout time the cavalry arrived. I managed t'get a fire goin' on the other side of the wagon. With all these rangers about, I don't reckon we're likely t'catch much trouble from these folk. Desperate people cling t'authority like a drowning man does a piece of driftwood; they won't do anythin' that might cause them t'lose the favor of the ranger corps. We should be able to lay our heads without too much worry tonight."
He bites his tongue as the Kingwatch commander speaks. Having dealt with his share of entitled nobles before, especially their children, the impulse to abscond wells up again.Thank you for reminding me why I wanted to leave, conceited halfwit.
As the trio approaches Barrow, he sets Keranos against the wagon.
"Thank you Barrow, fine work getting us set up for the night. I wasn't expecting to sleep beneath starts when I awoke this morning but it's a fair improvement to the alternative."
Thosar glances back at the towering commander of the Kingswords while sitting with the others. With a sense of anonymity, he sends a quiet message to her.
"That barrier is insurmountable by any means you may possess. The king himself was used to power it along with bringing that tower onto the city. Siege the place if you must, but I caution you to examine the situation before any attack."
MikeM:
Using portent. If she attempts to spot me, she rolls a 2.
I havent too much to add right now. Galen would have gone off to hunt, as Keranos suggested, and should be back. I had actually hoped to see what Sagishi would be doing, and maybe have Galen join in, but that kind of interaction looks like it will have to wait.
Galen does, however, happen to have a bedroll Keranos may use.))
((So, I may have spent a few hours debating whether or not Ludwig would trigger a confrontation with the kingsguard and rangers here))
The elf's words immediately rub Ludwig the wrong way. He has no idea what nost-n'taum means, but given the rest of what he said, it's probably some kind of government classification for vulnerable refugees. The elf says he'll help, but everything in that speech is laced an intent to subjugate the populace and reimpose the will of the state upon these poor, freshly freed people. Ludwig can practically see the elf rubbing his pompous, statist hands together as he speaks.
He finds himself starting to take a step forward, but stops after getting another look at his allies. Keranos is in no condition to stand against him, while Thosar and Fhiess look like they just want to get the young godling back to camp. Even if he just expresses heated words, figures like this could very well escalate to arresting him and the others. Dejected, Ludwig leaves with them as originally planned. After that talk about not trying to fix every little thing wrong with the world, it would be foolish to blow everything standing up to this one admittedly grave injustice.
Back at the camp, Ludwig cringes as Barrow talks of them clinging to authority, mostly because he knows he's right. The phantom of aid from the kingsguard and the teensy bit of actual kindness from the kingsword troopers will be more than enough for the refugees to happily wrap the chains of oppressive government back on their throats. Speaking as if his head's barely there, he mutters "I guess that's a silver lining in all of this."
Ludwig joins the ranks of those struggling to sleep in lieu of the calamity that befell the town, his rest burdened with nightmares of the sky-high taxes all of these people will get beset with following the government led retaking of the area.
The night passes fitfully for the Endowed, as at any given moment through the dark hours there is still a sizable contingent of survivors and soldiers speaking among themselves, ranging from hushed whispers to distant shouting. Eventually the new day dawns, and with it the great creaking wagons loaded with wood and hardware, presumably unassembled siege towers, catapults, and the like if some of the more recognizable components are to be taken at face value. There are weapons, armor, supplies, shelter, what appears to be a portable forge; all the implements necessary to wage war.
Other wagons carry carry men and women dressed in green surcoats and chain mail, many of whom eye the tower in the distance with apparent dread as they step down into the mud. "Those'd be the rank an' file of the Kingsfort," Barrow says in hushed tones as he kicks sand onto the remains of the campfire to smother it. "Poor souls probably have never even lifted a sword that wasn't to strike down a dummy stuffed with straw durin' a trainin' exercise. Gods save us all if it comes down t'the lot of them bein' all that stands between us and whatever nightmare's holdin' court in that tower."
The high elf's pavilion is made of green silk with a golden portcullis embroidered on three of its sides. The fourth hosts the actual doorway, which the field marshal exits to greet the morning with a fresh pained expression on his face as his fine leather boots and gleaming chain are sullied by the mud underfoot. The Kingsword marshal--already out and about for the day--shows no such compunctions about the state of her attire as she tromps through the sodden earth with the strength of a goliath. They confer for a few moments before parting ways and disseminating orders. In short order, the soldiers start unloading the wagons while the rangers organize the evacuation of those who could not be convinced to join the high elf's militia.
"Oh ho ho, what do we have here!" Barrow trumpets from the wagon. He emerges from within clutching a wheel of cheese and a skin of water. "That sack be better than I even thought! Whatever fate we got to meet, at least we get t'do so on a full stomach!"
Everything seems well in hand with the Kingsguard and the survivors. The wagon is ready to go, and it's probably advisable to leave before the wagon trains of evacuees fill the roads westward to Bellows.
Keranos sits in the wagon with his knees drawn to him and watches the Kingsguard organize themselves with bleary eyes. His expression is sour, his face is pink, and his hair is a disaster. Barrow's chipper demeanor, normally a source of encouragement for the god of storms, now comes off as insincere and grating.
He does not make his feelings known - at least not intentionally. "We should be off," he says bluntly. "Northward toward Forgerun, I believe was the plan."
((Pretty handy, that guy was awfully thoughtful.))
As usual, Thosar does not begin his trance until near midnight, but wakes just as the sun nears the horizon.
**
He is aware of the students examining him, watching his every move. Never before have they been so attentive, so quiet, so...mature. He hastily scribes notes on the board before the class, continuing his explanation of effects that King Telmur's rule had on the realm after his death. The cultural and artistic tastes of the gentry in the wake of his success lead to large and elaborate ceremonies, grand orchestras, and sweeping painted landscapes with great figures locked in mortal combat.
"As you can see, the successes of the post-Telmur reign resulted in a great many works for the upper crust. However, even lower classes benefited thanks to massive spending on architecture and art. This led to the creation of many thriving art institutions such as Hogan's Exports and maintained the positive sentiment among the common folk towards the rich and powerful."
Having finished his lecture, he wraps up the class. "Remember to read chapters 4 through 5 of Seeing the Unseen the content will be tested in your exams next Friday. Are there any questions?"
The class remains in their seats, unmoving for a moment. Not one moves for the door, normally the room would be empty at this point. A student raises her hand. "Professor, could you explain your theory of how the Oneiroi can indicate major historical events? I found your paper fascinating but difficult to parse."
"Of course. As the Oneiroi indicate divine influences, their position relative to Nyx and Somnus has an effect on their influence over the events on Somnus. Conjunctions are when their power is greatest, thus increasing their influence. In the event of a conjunction of multiple moons with Somnus and Nyx, their agents will all become more powerful and begin interfering with each other. This typically leads to revolutions, wars, and natural disasters of varying intensity. The more populous the conjunction, the greater the calamity. My personal notes and calculations bear this out to a startling degree of accuracy, though I could only include the summary in my paper."
"You're so amazing, professor, please won't you show me your life's work?"
This isn't right...no one should know about this yet.
The students begin crowding around him, all reaching out to touch or stroke his body like that of some idol. They chant in unison now. "Teach us. Show us. Mold us."
Their bodies begin coalescing into a single fleshy being. All eyes and mouths, it pulls him into the largest of its maws. As teeth dig into his crown, the other mouths continue to speak.
"Professor, my father is a man of the court, how can I be expected to complete a paper while helping him with those duties?"
"What?! A D minus? I worked on this all last night, what right do you have to give me such a poor grade?"
"I believe it would be better if you simply didn't force any assignments on us and have us all an A for effort."
*****
MikeM:
Portent rolls are 17 and 18.
He opens his eyes to the first light of dawn and speaks "Things are looking up." to no one in particular. Thosar joins the others for breakfast and notes Keranos' sullen affect. "You know, the situation isn't entirely hopeless. We've direction, provisions, and others to help those in need so we can focus on what needs to be done. A damn sight more than many have had claim to and won. Good people died yesterday, to be sure, but we saved a host of others. Do not take a loss for defeat."
((In that case, I hope we don't have to hide Sagishi again.))
Ludwig wakes up with matted fur, having barely got enough rest to replenish his powers. He warily watches the Kingsfort and Kingsguard men go about their work, silently cursing himself for being unable to stay and bolster the liberty of the refugees. On a look, the elf is everything he hates in the state rolled into a single, pretentious package, ready to come crashing down in a fiery disaster at the slightest misplaced bowtie or mispainted gold veneer. The older woman, while still clearly a statist pig, seems like a much better person in comparison. She also strikes Ludwig as monstrously strong; in better circumstances, he wouldn't mind sparring with her.
The paladin is trying to avoid contributing to the gloom in the group, and finds this task easier when Barrow announces their food has been mysteriously replenished. With genuine surprise, he says "Well I'll be! I wonder how this got here." He looks over the other endowed with a grin, inadvertently made a little unsettling with his haggard appearance, and says "Maybe someone decided it was about time to tax the government right back."
Once breakfast is done, Ludwig gallops over onto the road, still attempting to be cheery. "Well, the mountains aren't coming to us. I do believe it's time to get going!" And not let the state trample over the next group of free people we encounter.
Fhiess had passed out before the knowledge of the military's involvement and encounter with the party could sink in. His slumber results dreamless, but bleak
He wakes the next morrow with bitter eyes. News of the arrival of food through magic reaches his attention, and he takes notice. Looking into the sack, he asks, "Is this really right..?" Fhiess asks, "to be so privileged with a replenishing source of food when others have lost everything..?" He is aware that an adventurer's source of gold makes purchasing food trivial, but it still feels unfair in a way, like fate had singled them out.
He doesn't add to the suggestion to go north, but it is already apparent to him since last night that they are travelling that way.
"Yes," Keranos says dully to Thosar. "The Kingsguard has done a fine job in helping these people, to be sure. Thanks to their efforts, the people will be protected, and the day has been saved."
A beat passes, and Keranos perks up slightly. When next he speaks, some small amount of grit has returned to his voice. "I - We have a long way to go. Let us not be bogged down in self-pity, for there is still much to do."
He splashes a bit of water on his face and pats down his hair to try and get it under control.
That is wise. Let us not dwell in the past; it is gone from our reach. We should instead move forward to what may come. The past is good for reflection and for instruction, to inform our path, but we cannot remain there, nor can we change it.
He places a hand on Keranos shoulder.
You performed admirably last night. Do not let our failures weigh so on you; there was little more aid, if any, we could have given. It is far better to try to do good, and to fail, than it is to ignore what lies in front of us.
To Fhiess , Galen says You have a point: how fair can it be that we would be given so much when others are left with nothing? Yet we have also been given a task to stand against a force we know nearly nothing about.
What was it he said? I could not stop him in my world? We stand against what appears to be a grave threat, and we are likely yet under-equipped to handle it. That bag is likely to do more good with us than it is with them, where people may kill each other over it; I would not concern myself overmuch with it.
"I suppose that's true, but it may still bother me a little while still being here.."
Hesitant to indulge in the offering of breakfast, Fhiess takes a moment to glance out of the wagon to survey the surroundings as they've changed since last night and taking notice of the Kingsguard arriving to move into formation. "Ah..! I agree that it'd be best to leave quickly. The tower might send out.. I don't know, something that will attack back should a battle break out."
Thosar nods as Fheiss speaks. "Yes, I suspect the saviors of the day will need saving themselves if they do as I expect they will. We're in no position to afford a battle of that magnitude, frankly." He chews his cheese thoughtfully.
"During my meditation last night, I had a good omen. I suspect we shall fare well today, even if it simply means that we can travel without much interference. I worry about what the future holds, though, since there there will be fewer rangers in the country to keep hobgoblins and the like in check. Hopefully we can resolve all of this business before it comes to that."
He takes a seat with the party, thumbing through a leather bound, lightly worn book. It is unclear if he is actually reading the book or simply staring at it. His eyes do not move along the page except for when he flips to another page. As he "reads", he slowly twirls a small pentagonal medallion sporting an eye in the center. If left undisturbed, he finishes in about 10 minutes.
"Pish posh," Barrow says at Fheiss's concerns over whether or not they deserve the bounty of the haversack's providence. Or perhaps he says "tick tock." Maybe "fish wash?" His mouth is so full of half-chewed cheese that it makes his words unintelligible. Thankfully, he finishes what's in his mouth and washes it down with a generous glug from a water skin before continuing. "We be needin' this, lad! I told ye, the strength of Old King Hector's line be burnin' in me bones, and a fire like that needs the requisite amount of fuel! Why, ye wouldn't want ol' Barrow t'run out of pep just when some horrible monster has the lot of ye in its clutches! No sir, there can be no savin' the day on an empty stomach. Now come on and eat up, ye look like yer liable t'blow away in the next strong breeze."
Once everyone is has piled in the wagon, Barrow gives a gentle whip of the reins and the horses--four powerful-looking draft horses whose muscles ripple visibly beneath their glossy coats--begin to move forward. Having outpaced most of the survivors traveling by foot, the crowd is significantly thinner than it was when they left the castle, and once they've skirted the burgeoning military camp, the road ahead is empty as far as they can see.
Barrow finds that the horses need little minding once a destination has been set, though cannot be determined if this is due to some magic or if they just happened to be exceptionally well-trained. Regardless, he has his hands free to study the map. "We be here," he says, stabbing the hide with a finger like a sausage. "If we be aimin' t'cross the Forgerun, we'll be needin' t'head west, then north t'get to Hammerfall. Oy, and it be election season t'boot, Oneiroi give me strength to endure. Kin they may be, but there be a fine line between civic duty and lunacy. Hopefully it won't overly complicate securing passage t'the other side of the mountains, but ye never know with those lot. For all we know, they've come up with some cockamamie Subterranean Transit Authority who've decided t'reallocate funding t'some mushroom farm subsidized t'not grow mushrooms and pocketed everything."
He traces their path on the map; the road goes northwest from here until it reaches Bellows, at which point it turns sharply north. "We'll probably make it as far as here before nightfall," he says, pointing to a spot near the northern edge of the forest a little short of the Kingsfort. "We'll make Kingsword the next mornin'. Bellows'll be two days after that. Hammerfall be another two, three days after that."
"That's a reasonable clip. With all the commotion, I doubt we'll have too much trouble for the next few days at least. " Thosar looks back at the city shrinking in the distance. The ruined buildings contrast the mighty, shrouded tower.
"You know, I had been wanting to leave that edifice of egotistical nepotism for a few years now but could never rid myself of the obligations that tied me there. Now I wonder if I should've been so eager.
((History check to recall details on Forgerun policies for passage. 12+7=19))
))