A Life Disturbed: IC

[mr1135]

"Rickard"

"I don't know Ambrose, but we best not stay here. I don't see any of the skeletons that attacked the town, but it could just be that they're hidden within the mist. Keep your voice low and let's see if we can find anyone else alive around here," he answers the lad gently as he eases him up to a sitting position.

"Well now...at least your shoulder wound remains closed by the magik..." he looks on in a somewhat worrisome manner, still not completely trusting its effects.

Giving Ambrose a minute to orientate himself, Rickard stands back up to survey the carnage around him. Just as he does, he hears a voice from behind and was surprised to see that it was the hunter. Waving him over, Rickard takes a sigh of relief from his familiar face. Clasping one another's arm and and giving Jarrod a firm pat on the shoulder, the two men greet one another.

"It's good to know someone else survived..." Ambrose tells the man before looking past him for a moment to note that only his hunting companions followed. "Your family...are they alright?"

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose's face falls. The thrill of battle had ended, and the reality of what has happened sinks in. He doesn't even notice the newcomer as he starts to weep.

"Marlin...he's...he's dead!"

[Feirgon]

"Rickard"

"I don't know Ambrose, but we best not stay here. I don't see any of the skeletons that attacked the town, but it could just be that they're hidden within the mist. Keep your voice low and let's see if we can find anyone else alive around here," he answers the lad gently as he eases him up to a sitting position.

"Well now...at least your shoulder wound remains closed by the magik..." he looks on in a somewhat worrisome manner, still not completely trusting its effects.

Giving Ambrose a minute to orientate himself, Rickard stands back up to survey the carnage around him. Just as he does, he hears a voice from behind and was surprised to see that it was the hunter. Waving him over, Rickard takes a sigh of relief from his familiar face. Clasping one another's arm and and giving Jarrod a firm pat on the shoulder, the two men greet one another.

"It's good to know someone else survived..." Ambrose tells the man before looking past him for a moment to note that only his hunting companions followed. "Your family...are they alright?"

As Rickard looks around, he notices that there are no remains of any skeletons or their weapons. And though it is difficult to see through the dense fog, the remains of the nearby buildings can be seen. The blue light, near where the church would/should/might be, continues to softly glow.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

Jerrod looks at the ground, tears in his normally hard eyes. "...No. They're gone. I can't dwell on it now though. We can grieve later. For now, we need to figure out what is happening and warn the neighboring towns." Jerrod steels himself with a breath. "It looks like something is happening at the church." Jerrod heads off that way, Tiro ranging ahead again.

[mr1135]

"I know Ambrose. I know how you feel...Marlin, your grandsire was my good friend for many years...but right now I need you to get yourself together. We're not out of danger yet. I swear to you we will get to the bottom of this," Rickard says to the lad, lending him his arm to grab to pull himself off of the ground.

Dayna...I hope you're safe...Come on Rickard. Get a hold yourself.

"Come. Let us see what that light is by the church. We shan't split up now," he continues after pausing for second deep in thought. Taking one last glance at Ambrose to make sure the lad is alright, he begins to walk after Jarrod towards the direction of the light.

[Feirgon]

As the five approached the blue light, it started to wane and give way to a solid shape, a figure, a person.

It looked to be an elderly man wearing a brown cloak and a walking staff. He was looking down at the ground.

And as they got closer to the man, they noticed that he wasn't looking at the ground...he was looking into a crater where the church once stood.

---

The old man looked up at the approaching survivors.

"Oh my, it seems there were survivors from last night's attack. This is good. Very good indeed."

He nodded his head as he said this and looked back down into the crater.

Jarrod notices that Tiro had stopped a few feet from the old man and was now sitting. Furthermore, the dog seemed quite calm and not tense at all.

Those who had been to the church frequently may recognize the man, but would have only seen him a few times.

Gully is the most familiar with the man, as he knew him to be a storyteller that lived in the basement of the church.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

"What's going on? How did you survive? What's with this mist? Where did those monsters come from?!"

Ambrose begins rattling off questions with increasing anger. The memory of Marlin's death is clearly still an open wound.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

Jerrod joins in with Ambrose's tirade. "Good? You think this GOOD? My family was slaughtered right before my eyes!" He does, however, notice Tiro's unusually calm demeanor, and settles down a bit then.

[mr1135]

"Rickard"

Noting the dog's relaxed state, Rickard approaches the figure cautiously before gives the others quick a shake of his head and gesturing for them to remain calm.

Keeps his grip still firm on his sword, he speaks slowly, "I've seen you but twice before in all of the years I have been in this town, and yet never have we encountered one another. Who are you elder and what do you know of the reasons behind the destruction of our homes?"

Taking a breath before continuing, "Our town has been razed, our loved ones slain, livestock slaughtered, livelihoods destroyed..." Looking around once more at the destruction that surrounds them, his voice slowly rising, "our place of worship desecrated, monsters are roaming our country side, countless innocents have been butchered in cold blood by creatures that should only exist in folk tales! By all that is right elder, if you know of some reason behind this and what it all means, tell us so that we can be done with all this disbelief and perhaps muster what smatterings of reason we can still salvage!"

[Feirgon]

The fog subsides a bit which permits greater visibility of the entire destruction of the town. The sun also begins to penetrate through revealing that it is closer to noon than morning, perhaps even past noon.

"There are so many questions, yet there is not enough time to answer them. Though, I do understand your distress, understand that it is better that even a few survived than none survived. For, now, you must all get to Dueggan to warn the royal officials of what has transpired here."

A horse gallops into the clearing and approaches the group. Tom would know this horse to be his: Blackjack.

"It looks like another was able to survive and has brought some supplies." The old man motions to the horse. "You should each find fresh clothes and enough supplies for the trip to Dueggan. Unfortunately, you will all have to walk, but there should be enough light in the day to get there before nightfall."

The horse looks to be packed for a trip. Each person should be able to find a set of clothes and shoes if they are currently without. Surprisingly, there is indeed enough food and water packed into the satchels.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose takes his new clothes and ducks behind a tree to change. When he emerges he's all set to go. He buckles the sword to his belt, and carries his hammer in his left hand.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod sits down, his back to a tree, waiting for the others to finish changing. Tiro pads over, and lays his massive head down across Jerrod's legs, and gives a planitive whine. Jerrod scratches the dog's head. "I know boy. I miss them too."

[mr1135]

"Rickard"

Closing his eyes and taking slow deep breaths as he walks off from the group, Rickard forces himself to calm down.

This man means us no harm. Leave him be Rickard. If we can get to Dueggan and warn the Magistrate, we can come back out with maybe a group of the city guard to secure the countryside and find Dayna over at the village of DeepMeadows.

Taking his jerkin and trousers off without ceremony, Rickard with a practised eye, checks himself for any residual wounds and dresses in the new clothes.

Now is not the time to dally, now is the time to act.

Checking to make sure that his tool belt is secure with all of its implements as well as his new additions, he walks back over to the group.

"Before we leave, let's take a few minutes and do a circle around the town to make sure that we've got everyone. After that it's off the Dueggan at our fastest pace. We'll eat on the road. Agreed?," he says looking around at the others.

As an after thought, he stares at the old man and adds, "Will you be coming with us elder?" Though for reasons unknown, he had the sense that he won't be.

[Feirgon]

The old man look s at the five assembled and then back at Rickard. He smiles and shakes his head slowly and pulls five small medallions from his sleeve.

"You will need these. Your story will most likely not be heard without some proof."

Each one is the size of a coin and looks to be made of medal. While in his palm, a blue sigil appears to float above each coin. For a brief moment each can read the sigil and instinctively takes one.

Rickard takes Protector, Ambrose takes Champion, Jerrod takes Tactician, Gully takes Scholar, Tommany takes Shadow Walker.

As each one takes their medallion, the sigil sinks into the their hands and disappears. As each one looks up, they notice that the fog has rescinded even more. It is quite obvious it is late afternoon by this point.

"I wish you survives luck in your journey. I suggest you leave immediately, otherwise you will show up at the gates of Dueggan after dark."

The old man then turns his back to the group and stares, once again, into the crater.

Spoiler

Show

You have each gained a trait and a scar. The traits enhance your abilities always. This does not mean that you can summon the blue mist and the sigils of power.

Character|Trait|Trait Details|Scar|Scar Details
Ambrose|Fearless|When you attack first at those that threaten to cause harm, you are more powerful.|Right Shoulder Wound|Your right arm will forever be weaker than your left arm. At times you will feel tingling in your right hand and you also have less flexibility in that shoulder.
Jarrod|Companion|You enhance the fighting spirit of all your allies.|Horrific Images|Your dreams are often plagued by the images of your slaughtered mother. The blanket is stained in her blood and is a constant reminder of her death.
Rickard|Defender|When you are defending that which you hold dear; friends, family, ideals, special objects, you are more powerful.|Migraines|Your head is much weaker to noise and any form of impact. Occasionally your ears will ring and can cause you to lose focus.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose's eyes widen as he takes his medallion and watches it sink in. He grabs his shoulder as there's a flash of pain. He thinks on all that has happened. In the space of a day, his entire world has changed. When Rickard describes their plan, he nods and takes the lead, circling the village, and pausing at the forge. He looks into the building. He had to know if the harp was still there. He regretted leaving it behind before. He was wondering if he could still bring it with him.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

Jerrod watches as the sigil sinks in, and the medallion goes inert. He knows it should hurt, and that he should be afraid, but he just can't muster the energy to care, too tired from the events of the day. He had never trusted the wizards' or clerics' magic, and this was clearly something of the sort. The magic of the natural world, like the floating crystals of Hollern's Valley, or the dreamwalking caves in the Rewo Mountains, those were born of this world, and blessed by the spirits. The wizards and clerics kept writing everything down, banishing the spirits, and generally making a mess of things. The former group had clearly been involved in the destruction of Jerrod's home and the slaughter of his family. Still, if the medallion would give him and the rest the power to obtain vengeance, he'd take it.

[mr1135]

"Rickard"

Staring mutely at the medallion as the magical sigil is absorbed into his hand, Rickard felt nothing. To him, it was but another strange event in what was already an incomprehensible day. If this will somehow aid him on their road to Dueggan and onwards, then so be it. Reaching up with one hand to message his temple, Rickard thinks to himself, "These migraines are going to be a problem. Maybe they'll fade in time...otherwise I don't know how I'm going to smith again..."

"Jarrod, if you could tie the horse to the post over there, we'll do the reconnoitre now and meet back here after. I'll take the middle of the town."

Without waiting any further, he gently touches his hand on Dayna's lute in his pocket and sets off to check around the centre of the town to see if there are any other survivors.

[Feirgon]

As they searched, it became quickly apparent that nothing was spared within the town. Buildings where hollowed out leaving a few standing pieces, most of which were charred black by flames.

But one distinct thing struck all of them. There were no bodies. Neither human nor skeleton. There were places where blood was splattered on the ground and the ground showed signs of combat, but there were no bodies. The town, save for the five survivors, was lifeless.

Spoiler

Show

Ambrose does not find anything left of the forge.

Rickard finds no other survivors in the center of town.

It takes almost no time to see the lack of anyone or anything else in the center of town. But to continue looking will push your travelling back further.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose starts crying again as he rejoins the group. The harp was gone. Anything he could bring with him to remind him of Marlin was gone. He can't bring himself to understand what happened. His mind searched for answers. Something. Anything. But there was nothing. Not even the god of war would condone a slaughter such as this.

[mr1135]

"Rickard"

Seeing the lad and sharing his sorrow, Rickard walks over to Ambrose and puts a firm grip on the boy's shoulder.

"I know lad...I know it's difficult. Your grandsire..." Rickard pauses, suddenly overtaken by a rush of emotions and lost for words. After a moment he regains control of himself and continues, "Remember this Ambrose and remember this well. Marlin wanted you to live. That boy, was his last and final wish. Every day that you live past this, you're doing him proud. You did well confronting these fiends with hammer and faith. Few could have fared better, and few would have done it so resolutely. We'll avenge him lad. We'll stop them with our bare hands if we have to."

You have a job to do Rickard. The boy had been tested against the anvil and was not found wanting. Forge him into a proper blade. Do not let him lose his way...do not lose your own way Rickard. Don't let them take Dayna like they took everyone else...

As Rickard's thoughts drift to that of his wife, he takes in a sharp breath. No. It's not for certain yet. There's a chance she survived Rickard. Dayna's a survivor. Until you see her body do not give up on her. She's a smart girl. If DeepMeadows was struck, she would have escaped to Dueggan.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

"I just wish I could have saved the harp. Or something to remember him by or something. There's not even a body I can bring to the stones for a funeral. How will he find his way across the Bridge of Swords without that?"

[mr1135]

"Rickard"

Pausing for a second, Rickard looks over to the returning Jerrod and tells him that he'll be back in a bit, and tells Ambrose to follow. Walking back towards the smithy, Rickard goes through the wreckage until he finds the remnant of what used to be the store sign. Taking it out and dusting some of the ash off of it, he speaks to Ambrose as he looks over the sign adoringly.

"It used to be called "Marlin's Hammer" you know? Years back when you were just a babe. When I came into town at Marlin's beckoning, he and I became partners and renamed it to "The Hammer and Anvil", after my old forge "The Molten Anvil" in Dueggan."

Placing the sign onto the floor in front of where the smithy used to be, he finds the head of a spade from the wreckage and digs a small but deep hole. He then takes a long piece of wood from the remains of the smithy and goes on one knee to start carving out Marlin Smith onto it with his little knife.

"Long ago, your grandsire worked alongside my father back in Dueggan. Hah! This was when I was but a boy myself. I can still recall the sight of them working in the smithy together. I will never forget that moment. It was like watching two clockwork beings working completely in step with one another, able to read each others' mind and anticipating every part. No sound but that their hammers banging on the anvil and the sizzle of metal in the cooling oils. It was watching them work that made me decide to take up the craft after them," Rickard continued while carving effortlessly into the marker. Pausing and grinning at Ambrose he adds, "I wanted to be one of the Magistrate's Crimson Guard when I was a boy. Did you know that lad? Like every other boy in the city, growing up watching them in their parade uniform, marching in unison like toy soldiers at the shops."

Finishing the carving, he takes a solid stance before thrusting the board into the dug out depression. Seeing that it's sufficiently stable, he pushes the dirt back in to hold the tomb marker in place. Slightly propping the smithy's sign against the front of the make shift memorial, he says to Ambrose, "hand me your hammer lad." Taking hold of the lad's hammer, he takes out his own master crafted one after and hands it back. Used nearly every day by Rickard, its head remains in flawless condition, though its grip has clearly been replaced several times.

"I know you have little else left of Marlin lad. This hammer was your grandsire's gift to me for passing the Guild exams in Dueggan and becaming a master blacksmith in my own right. He made it with his own very hands, and I want you to have it. As long as you hold on to this hammer and keep him in your memories and prayers, he will find his way across."

"Now let us take a moment and remember Marlin and others whom we have lost this day."


"Herein lies Marlin, Peerless Smith of Telas, Loving Grandfather, Trustworthy Friend, Steadfast and Resolute."

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

Jerrod ties the horse to the tree, then pulls a cloak out of the hunting pack. It was an unusual looking thing, mottled green, brown, and gray, all the colors mute and faded. It was good for stalking unseen through these woods though. The next item he pulls out is a small flask. It is full of his father's homemade liquor. The Last of the stuff to ever be made by his hand. Jerrod realizes. Jerrod takes a swig, then pours a bit out on to the ground, an offering to the no-doubt angry and vengeful spirits of the villagers. "Don't worry everyone. We'll find your justice, just you wait." He walks around a bit, searching the ground until he finds what he is looking for. He reaches down and pulls up a small bone, likely from a finger, blackened and cracked. "All of you listening right now, I want you to remember this bone. I'm taking it with me, so you can follow and watch over us. We'll let you see us finding who did this to you." He wanders over to nearby birch tree, takes out a knife, and shaves off a strip of bark. He works the bit until it is pliable, then wraps it around the bone, tying it together. He drops the charm into his pocket.
With a flap of wings, Hieronymus returns to Jerrod's shoulder. He gives a loud screech. Jerrod gives a small grimace. "I guess we need to find some food for you and Tiro, huh? We'll get to hunting as soon as the others are ready to go." he says as he strolls back over to the horse.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose takes the hammer and hefts it in his left hand.

"Thank you, Rickard. I'll treasure it always."

He sets it in his belt and turns to the memorial, bowing his head. He raises his left hand and puts his thumb and little finger together forming a circle. The sign of the sun.

"I've prayed before, but I'm no priest. So...I'll...I'll try to keep this short. It's how you'd have wanted it, Marlin. Always no time for talking, always at work. Goodbye, grandsire. I invoke Our Lord the Sun, Our Protector the Warrior, and Our Guide the Messenger, may you cross the Bridge of Swords in safety and confidence, and when I arrive in the Otherworld, maybe I'll see you again. But that day isn't today. You made sure of that, and I'll make the most of the gift you gave me."

He turns to Rickard.

"Let's go. We have to make haste if we want to warn Dueggan in time."

[Feirgon]

As the group moves further away from Telas, the fog becomes less dense. Before long, there is no fog left and it can be seen that the day is quite beautiful. The sun shines warmly, the breeze is gentle, and hardly a cloud sits in the sky.

Jarrod is the first to notice, but the others also begin to notice the sound of birds and other signs of life. Either they were too distraught pay such things any heed, but it was probably more true that the town had become void of any life.

Looking back at Telas one last time, they all could see that even the farthest outskirts of the town were not spared. A small blue light seemed to flicker near the church, but it too began to fade away.

---

Even at their fastest pace, the sun set before they could reach Dueggan. And as the light faded from the sky, they all could feel a deep exhaustion flowing over all of them. In the distance, they could see Dueggan, is was no more than an hour away. But at their new sluggish pace, it may as well have been a day away. In fact, even Blackjack and Tiro, animals quite fit to working long hours looked quite drained.

It seemed odd, being so close to their destination where a warm bed could very well be waiting for them, but the thought of camping here seemed like a feasible option.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

"We're going to need to camp here. We won't reach Dueggan before sundown, and they'll be closing the gates for the night. I'll go catch us some dinner if you all will set up camp." He whistles, and Hieronymus takes off, circling and looking for game in the dying light.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

"Jerrod, shouldn't someone go with you? We don't know if there are more of those things out there, and if you were caught on your own you might not be able to fend them off long enough to get help."

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

"I've been hunting a long time with only myself and my animals, but you're probably right. There is no telling what is out there. Feel like coming along then?" Jerrod is checking his bow, making sure the string is still taut. Hieronymus screeches, and dives down, coming up with a squirrel in his talons.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

"Sure. I need some work to take my mind off all that's happened."

Ambrose checks his gear, but doesn't find anything near as appropriate as Jerrod's bow.

"I should have taken some javelins during the fight or something. I just hope we don't run into ol' Droit out in the woods. I've met that boar once and once was enough."

[mr1135]

"Rickard"

Looking at Jarrod in the eye, they gave one another a telling look of understanding that the other lad needed this more than anything else.

Giving them a nod and turning to start unpacking the camping gear from the horse, Rickard says to the others, "You boys have fun. I'll set up the camp. Don't wander too far if you can help it and...well as hard as it is, try to keep each other within eyesight. We don't know how far they've advanced. They've hit the villages, they'll get to Dueggan before we know it."