For Home and Family [IC]

[ThirdEmperor]

Ashes mixed with the smells of fire and blood fill the air, raining down on the wrecked, wretched remains of the place you knew as home. The houses, the shops, even the temple of Pelor is naught but embers now, the ground covered in a layer of ash, and it's with a sick heart you realize that it's not just your childhood home, but your childhood friends you kick into sooty clouds with each step. Flames still bite and burn at the few remaining pieces of charred wood, and at the forest around the village, but the conflagration has lost it's previous intensity, little more than guttering candles now, compared to the terrible inferno before.

You still aren't sure if this is real, and can't help but hope that it was all a dream, the giant creature descending from the blue skies, the screams, the futile attempts of the paladins to slay the beast, their helpless demise. How they were ripped apart, one by one, until the only one standing was Grandmaster Freyen, who the dragon impaled on a single, razor sharp talon. Once the paladins were slain, to proud to flee, the dragon set their camp alight with a single blast of flame, before moving onto the rest of the village.

Now... Now it's all gone. To the west is the port town of Barque, the largest city anywhere near Hammondale, but to get there you'd have to trek through both the forest and the marshes, a three day trek at least, and a dangerous one as well. Nearer by is Carten, a village slightly smaller than Hammondale, about a days journey to the north. Either way, there's little left for you here, and eventually, you will have to move on or die here amongst the remains. Perhaps it's better to start sooner, rather than later.

[PollyOliver]

Vereth Amantar, second of his name, cradles his mother's broken lute in his lap and stares unseeing at the wreckage of his home.

Inside, nothing is left but charred beams and black bones and ash. Vereth stares at it, hands occasionally plucking at the lute before he realizes that the strings hang loose and unattached at the other end. His head feels hollow, and his face is stiff from the salt of dried tears. He feels like he should go, that he should look for the living, but instead he strums at the broken lute, making no sound, and relives again and again the death and the dying and the fire that came forth from his voice.

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Edit: retconning this bit out so I'm in the same timeline as Emily:
It is only when his cat--or the thing he always thought was his cat--runs by once more, armed and armored, that shock shakes off his despair and he stumbles to his feet. Still holding the lute as if playing, he shuffles through the empty streets, looking for survivors.

[Hawkwings]

Emily Vaeden - daughter of vegetable farmers, apprentice cleric, and now orphaned survivor of a dragon attack - wandered through the cloud of ashes and despair in a daze. Her tears were long dry by now, exhausted after seeing her family's farm in the same condition as the rest of the town. Now there was nothing to do but pick up what remained of herself and get a move on, out of the village she had lived all her life. Home... even burned down to nothing but ash she could still feel the pulse of the town, could almost see the buildings still standing if she were to just close her eyes, could almost not feel the heat from the still-burning embers.

Approaching one particular pile of burned-out wreckage, Emily saw something move. She wasn't afraid, just curious. Any fear would pale in comparison to the dragon after all. It wasn't until she got closer that the ash-covered lump she spotted turned out to be a boy, sitting on the ground facing away. Emily walked closer, cautiously, until she recognized the person sitting there.

"Vereth? Is that you?"

[PollyOliver]

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I'm retconning my first post back to me still sitting by the house, since that's when Emily bumped into me. Hope that's okay; nothing happened afterword except he got up and started wandering around.

Vereth turns around. His face is blackened with soot, except for twin tracks down from his eyes, and his hands are bloodied. His fingers keep working at the broken lute regardless.

"Emily?" he asks. His normally-vibrant voice is hoarse. "Are...are you okay? Are there others?"

[Devixer]

Wolfgang Hersch finally steps out of the cellar, and into the ruins of the tavern he once ran. He sighs. He'd very much liked this town. He had no desire to return to the cities and relive his life on the streets. But, he also knew that he had little choice. It was either leave or stay here to rot. And he had gathered what little supplies he had for a reason.

Stepping out of this particular pile of rubble, Wolfgang dusts himself off. He gets the idea that he wasn't the only survivor of this attack, so he starts wandering the streets, looking for anyone else who was alive. It turns out not to take long. After just a bit of walking, he recognizes Vareth and Emily speaking to each other. He won't announce his presence just yet, standing about a dozen feet away.

[vageta31]

Staring down at the fresh mound of dirt covering his fathers remains, Vash says a few words in prayer and then stands up trying his best to appear stoic. He wasn't sure what was worse, the pain of losing his father or the pain of feeling that he had betrayed him by not being there to help. Deep down he understood that if he had been in town when the Dragon attacked he would have only been another victim of it's fury. Still, he allowed himself to take some of the blame if only to fuel his desire to exact revenge on the creature.

Saying goodbye to his father a final time, Vash made his way back into the town's remains to see if anyone else had been lucky enough to survive the attack. What was once a peaceful town mere hours ago had turned into a fiery graveyard. Charred bodies were scattered in the streets and in the wreckage of what were once homes. He began to think he might have been the only one to survive until he heard what he thought were human voices around the corner.

Vash upped his pace and came around the corner to find young man and woman standing near the wreckage of what was once someone's home. The man looked like Vereth, someone who had visited his father's blacksmithing shop a few times in the past. He had spoken to him once or twice though he didn't know him all that well. Still, it was a relief to find someone alive. Walking up to the survivors he called out...

"Thank god I was not the only survivor."

[tonberryking]

Under almost any other circumstances, a half-orc picking now to show up in town would be making matters not only entirely worse, but also hint towards the possibility that the Gods spite Hammondale with an unheard of bitterness.

But this is hardly the circumstance. Her face is smeared with ash, making the greenskin more fearsome to approach, but the wooden clasp on a soot-stained leather pauldron is clearly that of Elhonna's sigil. More of a rumor than a resident, the half-orc woman who briskly hurries into what's left of the town could only be the paladin one. The one most people weren't quite sure was real to begin with...

To her, the few survivors that can see her are all strangers; it's been nearly two years since she had reason to come into town, and barely an hour since she realized no one else at the smoldering compound was with the living. Blotting out the thought that there was relatively little to bury, Mido grabbed what she could: scattered arrows of mismatched fetching, an abandoned bow and a boat oar the boys used for 'weight training' and came to town. Her own bedroll to lay wounded upon, though she had no bandages.

In such straights, she approaches, looking aghast and almost sheepish.

"..Hail, everyone. I've... come to help. Are there any wounded?"

[PollyOliver]

Vereth looks from person to person, from the half-orc he assumes is the paladin his father once told him about to the smith's boy and back to Emily. He tries to speak, but for once in his life nothing comes out. He doesn't know if he is glad so many lived, or horrified that not one of them could have been his parents or his siblings. The selfishness of that thought strikes him a second later, and his throat makes an odd hiccuping sound that he realizes is a sob. He swallows, clutching the broken lute to his chest with bloody fingers. No tears, though. Not anymore.

"I...." He gives up, looks at the half-orc, and simply shakes his head. His hands burn, but he doesn't think the cuts are deep. Gritting his teeth, Vereth forces himself to stand up.

"What do we do?" he whispers.

[Daftendirekt]

Juniper's sapphire eyes glint in the firelight as she crouches underneath a burnt timber, watching Vereth speak with Emily. Her tail snakes slowly back and forth as she gazed sadly at the young human she'd spent the better part of the last two decades with, keeping him (relatively) silent company. Seeing him clutch his mother's lute, her thoughts dwelt on the woman it had belonged to -- kind, caring, a good mother, always ready with a snack for the town's favorite pet.

Gone.

Just like everything else. June had to remind herself that there was nothing she could have done. Even had she changed form, and been in her prime, she would have stood no chance. Dragons are fearsome, reds most of all, and this one had been large, its flames intense, and its claws wicked and dangerous. It had decimated the whole town in only two passes.

Standing up straight, the Siamese stretches her legs and then pads out softly to her owner, rubbing her head against his ankle in an effort to comfort him -- although no comfort could be had as long as they remained in a place such as this.

[vageta31]

"As much as I'd like us all to take the time to properly bury the dead, it's probably not a wise idea. That Dragon may come back to finish off any survivors and we wouldn't stand a chance."

Vash stops speaking for a moment and visibly looks around.

"I say we do a cursory search for any other survivors, then high tail it out of here towards the next town or village. I think the village of Carten is about a days travel north from here. Assuming the Dragon hasn't attacked that village yet it should at least give us a safe place to gather ourselves and figure out what to do next. I am however open to other options..."

[Devixer]

Wolfgang watches the new arrival. He'd heard rumors of a half-orc among the paladins, but hadn't really paid much attention. Apparently, though, the rumors were true, because here she was. She didn't look quite like what he expected, though. He paid it no mind. He approaches the group in the midst of their conversation, figuring he may as well let everyone know he was indeed alive.

In response to Vareth's whispering, Wolfgang says, "We need to look for other survivors. We can't be the only ones, after all. And after that... we leave. Carten's our best option, it's just a day's travel away."

[Blackfish]

"I didn't see anybody else."

Amara approaches the group of survivors. She is filthy, covered in soot and dirt, and carries a half-filled pack. Her face seems to be devoid of emotion, but there is anger in her voice and it is obvious that she has recently been crying. She drops her pack to the ground and sits near the other survivors.

"We should get going -- wherever we can go -- before it comes back for us too."

[PollyOliver]

Vereth doesn't say anything else, but looks between the lute in his hands and Juniper. Finally, painfully, he puts the broken lute in his pack, coughing to keep that odd hiccupy sobbing feeling down, and picks up the cat, scratching its ears. Where the barding came from he has no idea, but his exhausted mind slips over that with only the barest of thoughts as he hugs the last member of his family against his chest.

[vageta31]

"I guess it's settled then... I don't think there's much salvageable from here, but grab anything that's useful and let's be on our way."

Vash throws his bag over his shoulder and casually reaches for the hilt of his sword reassuring himself that it's at his side.

"Unless there are any objections I will volunteer to lead us to Carten. If there are any others that are good with a weapon perhaps one of you can protect the rear of the group. It will be nightfall soon and there is no telling what awaits us in wilderness."


With that said, Vash begins to walk north heading out of the charred remains of Hammondale.

[tonberryking]

Mido's piercing brown eyes look over the group. Young adults all, she thought, though not necessarily children from the way they were--if however barely-- keeping their wits about.

"I'm the only paladin left in Hammondale," she starts, letting it sink in but also to say she's checked for survivors up on the hill, " No one wants to hear this, I apologize but if the dragon's still about, it doesn't matter how quickly we head to Carten, he would spy us overhead."

She turns, her braided hair flicking about like the ends of cord and motions westward. "It's dangerous, but not dragon dangerous if we take the longer trek to Barque. The trees would shelter us..."

However the paladin doesn't argue the point. Rather, she drops her gear in a safe spot away from cinders and embers and begins to look around. "But our first act should be to find any other survivors. We can ruminate on our path choice until we've found everyone else alive."

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Is a search check even necessary? Cause I'll make one if it'll have any bearing, even if it just means we find some anti-dragon weaponry stash

(1d20+1)[9]

[Daftendirekt]

Juniper purrs as the young human scratches her ears, nuzzles against his hand, and then hops down out of his arms, padding across the sooty road and disappearing amongst the charred timbers.

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Search check: (1d20+6)[21]

[Hawkwings]

With each new person appearing out of the ashes Emily's spirits raised a little. The townspeople were hardy, she knew that. They had to be to survive on their own out here in a little village. But their survival couldn't really offset the profound sense of loss that she felt, that they all felt.

Choking back more tears than she thought she still had, Emily stood back up and tried to dust herself off, while listening to the conversation. Where to go from here, that was the question. Both literally and figuratively. Where to go, what to do with their lives... that dragon had some from somewhere, and didn't adventurers go and slay dragons? Well, legendary ones did. The Adamant Razor would have, no doubt, they had faced worse in the stories.

But right now they were just a group of teenagers with shattered lives and a whole bunch of emotional baggage. And they needed to get moving soon.

"We should head to Barque eventually, but they would have spotted the smoke here from Carten. We should go there first and rest for a bit, and get supplies. And hopefully they haven't been attacked, but if they have, we may find more survivors there."

[Devixer]

Wolfgang pondersthe situation for about a minute, his fingers tapping the hilt of his short sword. He was certainly relieved that he wasn't the only survivor of this attack, the relief was nothing compared to the grief and anger that he felt. He wanted to find and kill this dragon right now, even if he knew that he would only serve as a light snack. But, he supposed that harboring a grudge would come after the group's survival.

"I believe we should head to Carten, as well. We can get a more proper rest there, and buy more supplies."

[jojolagger]

Crais wanders toward the group. His eye are constantly checking the sky, and his hand remains near a small pouch on his belt. What few weapons he managed to save hang from his belt,
Fire is the easiest element to harness, both in magic and mundane methods. However, it is also the most destructive. While it can be a tool, is can always become a weapon. thinks Crais, remembering Malferian's notes on magic. When used in combat one should always be aware of collateral damage. Then the user will never be responsible for something like this. Is added to that note.

[ThirdEmperor]

Juniper and Mido's search through the ashen remains of the village turns up little, the closest to a "survivor" they find a charred skeleton, clad in what once might have been leather armor, although now it is no more than tattered rags. They do however manage to find the entrance to an old root cellar, made out of reliable stone with few wooden parts that could have burned. Inside are several sacks, which turn out to contain barley and potatoes, a barrel of wine, not the best, but still drinkable, as well as a good stock of dried meats and vegetables, and even a skinning knife, which might serve as a decent weapon.

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Total inventory of cellar:
Twelve pounds of barley,
Six pounds of rabbit meat, dried,
Two gallons of wine, common (16 lb.)
A string of dried garlic and onions (1 lb.)
Five pounds of potatoes,
Two pounds of turnips,
One skinning knife, usable as a dagger.

[Daftendirekt]

Juniper walks back out amongst the group of humans and sits down, a knife held firmly in her teeth, by the handle. She purrs loudly as she looks up, brilliant blue eyes glinting as she glances from human to human to half-orc. When this produces no response, she drops the knife, then nudges it with her nose.

"Freow?"

[Hawkwings]

Emily looked down at the cat who was apparently trying to get their attention. How strange... she thought, seeing the knife that was just grasped in the cat's mouth. She bent down, reaching forward to pet it while also reaching for the knife, carefully, slowly.

"Nice kitty, yes... What have you got there? Where'd you find this huh?"

[Daftendirekt]

If cats could scowl, Juniper would be doing that right now. While she enjoyed life as a cat, it was endlessly frustrating sometimes how condescending humans could be in talking to one. Lashing her tail, she walks up to stand at Emily's feet, stares right up at her, and then pads off towards the root cellar.

[PollyOliver]

Juniper's behavior tickles something in the back of Vereth's mind--the years when he was a child, utterly convinced the cat could understand his every word. Numbly, he shuffles after her, motioning for the others to follow.

[Hawkwings]

Did that cat just give me the evil eye? Oh cats, they think they're so superior...

Emily picks up the knife and follows the cat, curious to see what she wanted.

[tonberryking]

Mido peers at the armored Siamese with more than just a hint of suspicion, but says nothing. Getting down to business, she wordlessly hefts up the closest supplies and in several trips deposits them with the rest of her gear before finally calling for the others.

"Before we go, we divy up these supplies. I'd leave the liquor but we could perhaps sell it in Carten; we've more than enough goods otherwise to make the trek."

[vageta31]

"Sell it? I think we might find a better use for it than that.... At any rate let's divvy it up quickly and then get on the move. We should travel as far as we can before nightfall so we can make it to Carten before dark tomorrow."

Vash takes his share of the supplies and puts it in his backpack.

"Unless anyone has something else they need to do, let's fill our packs quickly and head out."

[Devixer]

Wolfgang takes a share of the scavenged supplies. He wonders why the cat had found and recognized a knife, but doesn't speak about it.

"I have no pressing matters. Let's just head out as soon as we can."

[Daftendirekt]

June sits around grooming herself while the big people pack their supplies. Once everybody but one has picked up their packs, she lopes over and crawls inside the remaining pack, poking her head and paws out. She lets out a contented meow, and waits for them to head out.

[PollyOliver]

Vereth gives the cat a long, weary look before finally giving up and going to pick up the pack. He follows the others out of the cellar.