Fodd, channeling your unshakable conviction in righteousness and the spirit of your father, you bless your blade. In response, light begins to emanate from your notched and slightly crooked shortsword, the soft warm glow reminiscent of muted angelic radiance. It is a light that speaks of comforting warmth, but also quiet strength. It is, all at once, the embrace of a fierce mother whose cubs are threatened and the glow of a hearth already lit by loved ones when one returns from a long and bruising journey. Seeing it, yet more folk from the leaning appear to have second thoughts, muttering and shuffling backward slightly.
Ragnor, at your incantation the very ground before the inn door seems to erupt as a mass of undergrowth bursts into being an inch beneath the flagstones and erupts upward. Vines, thorns and spikes of every kind fill the space, promising a bloody exsanguination to any foolish enough to walk through it. The crowd shuffles back still further, with even several of the larger toughs around the Whiteblade inching back from this demonstration of druidic power and the roar of warning that follows it ((I rolled an intimidation check for you and got a 15)).
Father Shiroq doesn't flinch an inch, but glances over his shoulder to assess the mood of his followers. His eyes narrow at what he sees and when he turns back to you, his features present a conciliatory smile that doesn't come close to reaching his eyes.
There is no need for all this shouting, nor for violence. Let us adjourn until dawn and present our cases to the good people of the District. Let us see if they share your comfort in living with a child-murdering witch in their midst?
Whiteblade Lifin looks shocked for a moment, but instantly schools her face to smoothness. She sheathes her longsword in a practiced movement, her pale blue eyes locked on Fodd as she does so.
Mika, having made her way downstairs alongside Griga approaches you, Ella, and whispers frantically.
You needn't do this. Even if you somehow convince the District tomorrow, they're just as likely to come back a week from now and torch the tavern while you're all in it. Just hand me over. Without the Leanin', without Tyf and Rika, I'm as good as dead already. What kind of life will I have if I'm peering over my shoulder, forever expecting Purifiers to kill me or anyone I love?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Hearing snatches enough of the conversation to grasp that it's calming down, that the risk is falling, that she isn't trapped, that someone needs her help, Ella snaps herself back into control. "Absolutely not. No, listen to me now. Right now, look me in the eyes. We're not handing you over. Not for a second are we even going to consider it. You see these men, it wouldn't even occur to them to think so and they won't. There have been enough deaths. I'm not adding you to the list." Her eyes flick to Griga, just for an instant, more of a flinch than a glance and she lowers her voice. "It's always possible to build a new life. Always possible."
"Now, I can't imagine we're sleeping here tonight. Come on, into the hole," Ella says, brooking no argument. She snatches up an iron ash brush from the fireplace and places it into Mika's hand, casting Light onto it, before ushering her towards the trapdoor.
"A fair trial is the only route to true justice." Fodd nods, hiding his relief that violence appears to have been avoided, or at least postponed. "Good people! Return to your beds!" he says, earnestly praying that they do so, not yet ready to sheath his sword.
Father Shiroq listens to Fodd's exhortation and nods. He moves slowly forward, entering into Ragnor's field of thorns at a sedate pace. The sharpened leaves, twisted vines and protruding natural spikes flay his feet and legs, slicing his robes and the robes beneath them open in a dozen minor wounds. He does not falter, approaching to face to face with Fodd at a sedate, almost casual pace as those behind him look on in awe.
Looking through the small gap left between Fodd's bulk and the doorframe, his eyes fix on Mika and he addresses her directly.
Ah, child. Were that your human spirit had not been twisted so foul by the corruption in your blood. Do not rest easy tonight. Justice comes for you, and I am prepared to bleed to see it done.
He pauses there, and his face twists into a sickly smile as he drops his voice, so that only those in the inn can hear him.
Oh, and in case you were considering absconding in the night... let me warn you. Xaja's... memory... would find that very, very painful.
With that, he turns around and walks back to his own supporters, yet more cuts opening on every inch of his lower body. As he reaches his followers, the Whiteblade steps over to him and lays an armored hand respectfully on his arm. A pulse of cold white light emanates from the point of contact and the Father's wounds close, thorns embedded in his skin dropping to the ground as rapidly healing flesh expels them in a brief burst of blood.
A moment later, Ragnor, you spy a thin figure emerge from the shadows. He is dressed in plain, loose robes of grey and carries no visible weapon, but moves with a warriors grace. He approaches Father Shiroq and the Whiteblade, and the three engage in whispered conference even as the crowd begins to disperse. A moment later, the thin, almost emaciated man nods repeatedly and moves swiftly off laterally and out of sight. Focusing on him carefully, you note that a subtle adornment on his vestments. A single owl's feather.
Ella, your whispered conference with Mika, urging her to escape is halted in its tracks by the Father's appearance in the doorway. Under the gaze of his empty, cold eyes Mika seems to wilt into herself, the ash brush falling from numb fingers. She ceases to listen to you, ceases to listen to anyone and seems ready to sink to the floor, her muscles no longer responding.
He's got her... She's alive and I left her with these monsters...
"We do not wish for violence but we will also not shy from defending the innocent from the likes of you. Fair trial or no we will lay down our lives before letting those who defile the innocent walk unimpeded. You run for now and consider your empty words carefully, but the stench of your intent will fool no one. I see it. The land you seek to harm sees it, and before long the whole town will know you. Whether it be tonight, tomorrow, or some day very soon, you will have your reckoning."
DM Note: This post takes place mid-way through the last DM post, before he fully clears the thorn patch.
As he walks away, Father Shiroq is halted momentarily by Ragnor's words. He doesn't turn, but instead raises his hands and addresses his followers.
Do you hear that, my friends? The stunted abomination has said it, clear as the night is dark and as his soul is empty. These... creatures, and the fools who stand with them, will seek to thwart justice upon the dawn. Let it not be said that we were not open to the District's judgement.
As you speak to your neighbors tonight, let it not be said that we in the Leanin' nor in the Church of Purification allowed fury over the witches' crimes to cloud our eyes. We stood ready to accept justice, content to place our faith in the wisdom of the people. They spit on that wisdom. Tell the people. Tell them all.
Corryn, who has been trying to remain in the background, ready to either move to an advantageous position to fight or to retreat, steps next to Ragnor and Fodd.
Shaking his head, he mumbles "I guess that couldn't have gone much better..." and then, already walking back towards the trapdoor, he adds, more to himself, but audibly: "I wonder, though, if these Purifiers, hateful as they are, might not tell a truth of their own."
Once near the trapdoor he addresses everyone present ((assuming they haven't gone further down the sewers/are still in the room, which I think is the case)): "I think any opportunity for rest tonight has passed; we must discuss what to do. And I'm afraid, that must include what happened in the park and what that might mean."
Ragnor starts back at Shiroq "Yes... let us speak to our neighbours tonight and perhaps consider how many men through history have been remembered fondly for kidnapping. I will not be cowed by..." trailing off at the sight of Corryn's clear disappointment. He tries to catch Corryn's eye but can only mutter half sentences barely resembling the same person who just a moment before had been fueled by the power of several suns "I... uhhh... he needs to know... I just..."
Once Corryn finished speaking, Ragnor regains himself and turns back to the others in his party as if in a fugue state of the dwarf he once was "Perhaps we should find a moment to take stock of what we do and don't know. The father seems to value his hold on the town and their belief that he is a force for good. I suspect he will not risk that good will by attacking us after offering a detente. If we flee, we spend the rest of our night searching for a safe moment and have no chance to recover or make a plan for tomorrow's... problems. Still, we need to take care to ensure that there are no surprises. Let us rest in shifts and ensure that we keep an eye out for possible dangers because right now we are not just battle weary but reacting to each new problem as it comes. The lion is not fearsome because he bites back when cornered, it is because he pounces at his moment of greatest advantage. It is time for us to find our advantage. I do not like feeling like the prey. Corryn is surely right that there is far more we don't know that what we do right now and we can not assume that we can trust anyone."
The torch bearing mob outside gradually dissipates, dark glances playing over the tavern door from over shoulders and around cloaks. Elin steps up smoothly beside the door, prepared to swing it gently closed once Fodd abandons his vigil and rejoins the group.
Griga, her ordinarily vivacious nature subdued, hovers nervously at Mika's elbow as if preparing to catch the girl should she grow faint. To the half-elf's credit, she shows no sign of such frailty, though her face is a twisted portrait of self-recrimination and anguish.
Joviar, his maul resting against the back of his armchair moves over to where Corryn, Ragnor and Horrence are standing with Ella, Mika and Griga. The tension of the confrontation appears to have fully sobered him up, and he's clearer eyed and more focused than you've seen in him in quite some time.
“Indeed.” Ella sags down into a chair. “Whatever we do, we do need to rest. We committed to clear the wells tomorrow morning. If this is a race for the favour of our fellow residents, as it somehow seems to have become, I can think of little better for that than maintaining our commitment to ‘purify’ the water. Nevermind the fact it’s the right thing to do. Little ones shouldn’t be going without clean water because of some overly-aggressive priest.”
"Ella, you are wise as you are a brave companion. We need to maintain focus on doing what we must. We are here to do what is right and ignoring our duty to cleanse the wells only serves to cause more pain. Nature has a way of rewarding those who preserve it and punishing those who don't - I do not doubt that she will be on our side if there is to be a battle."
"I am able to, at least temporarily, cleanse the waters, but I will need a chance to rest and meditate on channeling the appropriate forces. Perhaps I should start doing so with haste while you organise shifts with which we can all get some rest." He smiles at Ella with all the warmth he can muster, and places his hand on Horrence's shoulder casting guidance. "We have much left to learn tonight, I trust you will be wise in the insights you glean."
Ragnor slinks just away from the group, attempting to stay close enough to be available in case of a fight. He finds a comfortable area to rest his body begins meditating.
"I will take first watch!"Fodd says, eager to be of use. He returns to the door, peering occasionally through the keyhole, ignoring the dull ache in his limbs.
Ragnor, with Horrence guided and your piece said, you move over to one of the overstuffed armchairs in the tavern common-room corner and settle in for what is for you (and no one else in the vicinity of your snoring) a restful sleep.
Fodd, though your body aches with the strain of recent combat, hurried flight and magically augmented healing, you nevertheless selflessly position yourself by the front door, peering through the keyhole to keep a vigil on the street outside.
Elin and Griga hold a brief whispered conference, before the elf addresses the rest of you.
We've no other patrons in the moment, so the Tavern's four upstairs guest rooms can readily be made up for you all. Miss Ella, your room is of course at your disposal and Mika is welcome to share it, or take one of her own. Regardless, sirs Horrence and Corryn are welcome to rooms of their own should they so desire, or may join Master Ragnor and the Ear in repose here in the common room. Griga can bed down in the kitchen as she so often does, and I will remain awake to see to any needs that may arise during the night.
((DM: Those of you heading to bed, let me know who is sleeping where please, and the watch order. Those of you who want to remain awake and either do things, or talk, are very welcome to do so. Mika and Joviar won't head off to bed until you release them to do so.
Once you head off to bed, feel free to adjust your spells, refresh your hitpoints etc. accordingly. ))
DM: Have various starts of conversation here, which will leave you to decide on order, basically don't want to be up for more than another hour or so so I can get long rest, so tell me if it's too much!
Horrence sits back down at the table shaking his head. "I think rest cannot come too soon for me as well my friends, but I think if we are to be prepared for what faces us tomorrow we must consider what we know and how we might approach any trial."
He gestures to Elin and says "You have already done so much for us all my dear, but if before you depart I might ask for a small tot of Brandy to ease my nerves, I would be eternally grateful."
Looking at Mika he will say "Do not worry child. We will not let harm come to you, but in order for us to help I beseech you to help us. This Shiroq mentioned your friend Xaja- do you think she could still be alive? If so where could they behiding her? I know the hour is late, but do tell us all you can." Persuasion (with guidance): 5 plus 1
Turning to those in the company still awake he says "I bid you all get some sleep for now. I'm sure Fodd will protect us while Joviar and I discuss matters. I get myself to bed in an hour or two so that I too am fresh for the morning."
His attention finally comes to Joviar, saying: "Come my old friend, and let us ponder our situation...
"How well do you remember the day the Church of Purification came to town? I was much younger then, before I'd even met my Margaret. They were hailed as heroes of course, but I still remember my mother, gods bless her soul, telling me to not get into too much mischief when they were on patrol. I still remember feeling slightly scared of anyone carrying the Eye and Flame. It brought it all back seeing the Whiteblade.
"If they are once again rising in prominence there much be a reason for it. Clearly they seek this Mika girl as a witch of some sort in need to purging, but why would so many others being going along with it? There must be someone from the Leanin' who we can still call friend that we could ask- can you think of anyone who we can trust that we could call in aid for this trial?!"
Corryn sits down at the table with Horrence and will write down a few things in his diary; he'll also listen (attentively, if something relevant comes up).
Before Ragnor heads off to meditate, she mutters, "Yes, I know, I can do the same thing."
Once Elin has finished speaking, she re-summons her graciousness and says, "Thank you Elin. I cannot repay you enough."Ella rises slowly to her feet and crosses to the discarded ash brush, placing it back by the fireplace. "Mika, if you want to stay in my room, you're more than welcome. Come up once Professor Mattiford is done with you, if you wish to." She bids goodnight to the rest of the company and heads up the stairs to her room.
Once she's in her room, Ella presses the door closed until it clicks, changes into her nightshirt and opens up the skylight. Despite the fact the night is clouded, and her eyes heavy, she lowers herself to the floor and crosses her legs beneath the window. She breathes in a deep lungful of cold night air. Then another. A third, tinged with the slightest edge of smoke, and her brow crumples. Sorrow washes over her attempt to find the peace she had once known and failing. Visions of monstrous, violent trees against a heavy sky. Imagined visions of children torn apart with the blessing of their parents. The bone-deep weariness that comes with utterly expended magic, veins drained of anything but the ability to summon the slightest spark, mind unable to settle for fear of helplessness.
She stands, forces her window, her curtains closed. She lays out her only spare nightshirt, obviously, for Mika to use if she comes up. And pulls the covers over herself.
He moves behind the bar and expertly pours a snifter of Brandy from a long brown bottle with a twisted neck, the cork-top coming loose with a satisfying 'pop' in his well practiced hands. Placing the brandy glass on a small tray on which he also arranges a pair of cherries, he moves silently back to your side and deposits the tray at your elbow. Stepping back without a wasted word or movement.
Mika smiles gratefully at Ella, and you infer (passive insight) that the thought of being alone in the dark tonight terrified the girl. She moves to follow you as you head toward the stairs and your room, but pulls up short at Horrence's question.
Her pale hands intertwine nervously as she speaks, and it's clear she's rife with worry and self-recrimination.
I was so sure they were all dead. I saw Tyf basically broken in half, and the fists raining down on Rika and Xaja.
She shakes her head, as if trying to clear the memory from where it's superimposed over her vision. A visible shudder rips through her, and she puts out a hand to steady herself on the banister of the staircase up which Ella just disappeared.
If she's still... if she's still alive she'd be at the Leanin'. They were doing all sorts of remodeling work when we went in, knocking through walls and raising new ones, building... things. If she's still in the District, she must be there.
She looks utterly distraught and hopeless.
I'm so sorry... professor? I wish I knew more about these people, or what they're doing but they shut us out of almost everything and truth be told I always preferred to be out at the Treehouse, even before the Father and his thugs made the Leanin' unbearable.
((DM Post: If Corryn stepped in to ask her questions, that would happen here. ))
Joviar moves up beside the girl and gently lays a hand on her shoulder, the large draconic paw easily dwarfing the willowy girl's entire upper arm.
Let the child rest, Horrence. She's no army scout.
With a final glance at you and a grateful smile for Joviar, Mika moves hastily up the stairs.
Ella, a little while after you climb under the covers you hear the door to your room tentatively open and the soft sounds of Mika attempting to move stealthily into bed. You don't hear the sound of disrobing, which makes you strongly suspect the girl has just crawled under the covers in what she was wearing. This can't be hugely pleasant after days on the run, but on the flipside you infer that a real bed already feels like unimaginable luxury.
Horrence, Joviar turns to you and sits heavily down in an armchair beside the one on which you're perched with your brandy. He looks longingly at the drink for a long moment, but shakes his head with a snarl. Perhaps fortunately, he doesn't see shadow of a smile that plays over Elin's lips at this show of will.
Joviar frowns, stroking the tuft of hair descending from below his jaw.
We called on them more than once, truth be told. Even you'd be too young to remember, but back in those days Delvers weren't nearly as common, nor as civically minded. A delving expedition was just as likely to bribe the raiders in the upper levels to let them through as to drive them back to their lairs.
We couldn't afford mercenaries, with the demand being so high, and so the Purifiers seemed like a gods-send. Oh, they were haughty bastards to be sure. Looked down their noses at me and most other folk... but they got the job done and they did it without payment. Grim and bloody work, down there in the dark, for grim and bloody folk. In those days, having them come through for a few days, maybe start a few brawls with the dwarves in the tavern or yelling horrendous things at half-elf women in the street... well it seemed the lesser evil when compared to murderous raids or hideous beasts.
Elin appears at Joviar's side, tray in hand. Joviar sniffs at the glass on it hopefully, then shoots Elin a wry look as he picks up the steaming mug of spiced tea and sips it before continuing. His mouth twisting slightly in distaste, either at the subject matter or the beverage.
As to why they're rising to prominence now? Well, I can certainly guess. Humans are frightened, uncertain. The old order is crumbling around them, the Flow has all but stopped. There's an army outside the walls and the criers are telling us it's an anti-human alliance. With the Delvers dead or working other jobs and the army out on the walls, the darker things below are starting to stir. The government is reclusive, secretive and useless, and the temples just preach the same old thing they've done for years.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Fodd, channeling your unshakable conviction in righteousness and the spirit of your father, you bless your blade. In response, light begins to emanate from your notched and slightly crooked shortsword, the soft warm glow reminiscent of muted angelic radiance. It is a light that speaks of comforting warmth, but also quiet strength. It is, all at once, the embrace of a fierce mother whose cubs are threatened and the glow of a hearth already lit by loved ones when one returns from a long and bruising journey. Seeing it, yet more folk from the leaning appear to have second thoughts, muttering and shuffling backward slightly.
Ragnor, at your incantation the very ground before the inn door seems to erupt as a mass of undergrowth bursts into being an inch beneath the flagstones and erupts upward. Vines, thorns and spikes of every kind fill the space, promising a bloody exsanguination to any foolish enough to walk through it. The crowd shuffles back still further, with even several of the larger toughs around the Whiteblade inching back from this demonstration of druidic power and the roar of warning that follows it ((I rolled an intimidation check for you and got a 15)).
Father Shiroq doesn't flinch an inch, but glances over his shoulder to assess the mood of his followers. His eyes narrow at what he sees and when he turns back to you, his features present a conciliatory smile that doesn't come close to reaching his eyes.
Whiteblade Lifin looks shocked for a moment, but instantly schools her face to smoothness. She sheathes her longsword in a practiced movement, her pale blue eyes locked on Fodd as she does so.
Mika, having made her way downstairs alongside Griga approaches you, Ella, and whispers frantically.
Hearing snatches enough of the conversation to grasp that it's calming down, that the risk is falling, that she isn't trapped, that someone needs her help, Ella snaps herself back into control. "Absolutely not. No, listen to me now. Right now, look me in the eyes. We're not handing you over. Not for a second are we even going to consider it. You see these men, it wouldn't even occur to them to think so and they won't. There have been enough deaths. I'm not adding you to the list." Her eyes flick to Griga, just for an instant, more of a flinch than a glance and she lowers her voice. "It's always possible to build a new life. Always possible."
"Now, I can't imagine we're sleeping here tonight. Come on, into the hole," Ella says, brooking no argument. She snatches up an iron ash brush from the fireplace and places it into Mika's hand, casting Light onto it, before ushering her towards the trapdoor.
Persuasion check = 5
"A fair trial is the only route to true justice." Fodd nods, hiding his relief that violence appears to have been avoided, or at least postponed. "Good people! Return to your beds!" he says, earnestly praying that they do so, not yet ready to sheath his sword.
Father Shiroq listens to Fodd's exhortation and nods. He moves slowly forward, entering into Ragnor's field of thorns at a sedate pace. The sharpened leaves, twisted vines and protruding natural spikes flay his feet and legs, slicing his robes and the robes beneath them open in a dozen minor wounds. He does not falter, approaching to face to face with Fodd at a sedate, almost casual pace as those behind him look on in awe.
Looking through the small gap left between Fodd's bulk and the doorframe, his eyes fix on Mika and he addresses her directly.
He pauses there, and his face twists into a sickly smile as he drops his voice, so that only those in the inn can hear him.
With that, he turns around and walks back to his own supporters, yet more cuts opening on every inch of his lower body. As he reaches his followers, the Whiteblade steps over to him and lays an armored hand respectfully on his arm. A pulse of cold white light emanates from the point of contact and the Father's wounds close, thorns embedded in his skin dropping to the ground as rapidly healing flesh expels them in a brief burst of blood.
A moment later, Ragnor, you spy a thin figure emerge from the shadows. He is dressed in plain, loose robes of grey and carries no visible weapon, but moves with a warriors grace. He approaches Father Shiroq and the Whiteblade, and the three engage in whispered conference even as the crowd begins to disperse. A moment later, the thin, almost emaciated man nods repeatedly and moves swiftly off laterally and out of sight. Focusing on him carefully, you note that a subtle adornment on his vestments. A single owl's feather.
Ella, your whispered conference with Mika, urging her to escape is halted in its tracks by the Father's appearance in the doorway. Under the gaze of his empty, cold eyes Mika seems to wilt into herself, the ash brush falling from numb fingers. She ceases to listen to you, ceases to listen to anyone and seems ready to sink to the floor, her muscles no longer responding.
"We do not wish for violence but we will also not shy from defending the innocent from the likes of you. Fair trial or no we will lay down our lives before letting those who defile the innocent walk unimpeded. You run for now and consider your empty words carefully, but the stench of your intent will fool no one. I see it. The land you seek to harm sees it, and before long the whole town will know you. Whether it be tonight, tomorrow, or some day very soon, you will have your reckoning."
DM Note: This post takes place mid-way through the last DM post, before he fully clears the thorn patch.
As he walks away, Father Shiroq is halted momentarily by Ragnor's words. He doesn't turn, but instead raises his hands and addresses his followers.
Corryn, who has been trying to remain in the background, ready to either move to an advantageous position to fight or to retreat, steps next to Ragnor and Fodd.
Shaking his head, he mumbles "I guess that couldn't have gone much better..." and then, already walking back towards the trapdoor, he adds, more to himself, but audibly: "I wonder, though, if these Purifiers, hateful as they are, might not tell a truth of their own."
Once near the trapdoor he addresses everyone present ((assuming they haven't gone further down the sewers/are still in the room, which I think is the case)): "I think any opportunity for rest tonight has passed; we must discuss what to do. And I'm afraid, that must include what happened in the park and what that might mean."
Ragnor starts back at Shiroq "Yes... let us speak to our neighbours tonight and perhaps consider how many men through history have been remembered fondly for kidnapping. I will not be cowed by..." trailing off at the sight of Corryn's clear disappointment. He tries to catch Corryn's eye but can only mutter half sentences barely resembling the same person who just a moment before had been fueled by the power of several suns "I... uhhh... he needs to know... I just..."
Once Corryn finished speaking, Ragnor regains himself and turns back to the others in his party as if in a fugue state of the dwarf he once was "Perhaps we should find a moment to take stock of what we do and don't know. The father seems to value his hold on the town and their belief that he is a force for good. I suspect he will not risk that good will by attacking us after offering a detente. If we flee, we spend the rest of our night searching for a safe moment and have no chance to recover or make a plan for tomorrow's... problems. Still, we need to take care to ensure that there are no surprises. Let us rest in shifts and ensure that we keep an eye out for possible dangers because right now we are not just battle weary but reacting to each new problem as it comes. The lion is not fearsome because he bites back when cornered, it is because he pounces at his moment of greatest advantage. It is time for us to find our advantage. I do not like feeling like the prey. Corryn is surely right that there is far more we don't know that what we do right now and we can not assume that we can trust anyone."
The torch bearing mob outside gradually dissipates, dark glances playing over the tavern door from over shoulders and around cloaks. Elin steps up smoothly beside the door, prepared to swing it gently closed once Fodd abandons his vigil and rejoins the group.
Griga, her ordinarily vivacious nature subdued, hovers nervously at Mika's elbow as if preparing to catch the girl should she grow faint. To the half-elf's credit, she shows no sign of such frailty, though her face is a twisted portrait of self-recrimination and anguish.
Joviar, his maul resting against the back of his armchair moves over to where Corryn, Ragnor and Horrence are standing with Ella, Mika and Griga. The tension of the confrontation appears to have fully sobered him up, and he's clearer eyed and more focused than you've seen in him in quite some time.
“Indeed.” Ella sags down into a chair. “Whatever we do, we do need to rest. We committed to clear the wells tomorrow morning. If this is a race for the favour of our fellow residents, as it somehow seems to have become, I can think of little better for that than maintaining our commitment to ‘purify’ the water. Nevermind the fact it’s the right thing to do. Little ones shouldn’t be going without clean water because of some overly-aggressive priest.”
"Ella, you are wise as you are a brave companion. We need to maintain focus on doing what we must. We are here to do what is right and ignoring our duty to cleanse the wells only serves to cause more pain. Nature has a way of rewarding those who preserve it and punishing those who don't - I do not doubt that she will be on our side if there is to be a battle."
"I am able to, at least temporarily, cleanse the waters, but I will need a chance to rest and meditate on channeling the appropriate forces. Perhaps I should start doing so with haste while you organise shifts with which we can all get some rest." He smiles at Ella with all the warmth he can muster, and places his hand on Horrence's shoulder casting guidance. "We have much left to learn tonight, I trust you will be wise in the insights you glean."
Ragnor slinks just away from the group, attempting to stay close enough to be available in case of a fight. He finds a comfortable area to rest his body begins meditating.
"I will take first watch!" Fodd says, eager to be of use. He returns to the door, peering occasionally through the keyhole, ignoring the dull ache in his limbs.
Ragnor, with Horrence guided and your piece said, you move over to one of the overstuffed armchairs in the tavern common-room corner and settle in for what is for you (and no one else in the vicinity of your snoring) a restful sleep.
Fodd, though your body aches with the strain of recent combat, hurried flight and magically augmented healing, you nevertheless selflessly position yourself by the front door, peering through the keyhole to keep a vigil on the street outside.
Elin and Griga hold a brief whispered conference, before the elf addresses the rest of you.
((DM: Those of you heading to bed, let me know who is sleeping where please, and the watch order. Those of you who want to remain awake and either do things, or talk, are very welcome to do so. Mika and Joviar won't head off to bed until you release them to do so.
Once you head off to bed, feel free to adjust your spells, refresh your hitpoints etc. accordingly. ))
DM: Insight on history on the church of purification- 16
DM: Have various starts of conversation here, which will leave you to decide on order, basically don't want to be up for more than another hour or so so I can get long rest, so tell me if it's too much!
Horrence sits back down at the table shaking his head. "I think rest cannot come too soon for me as well my friends, but I think if we are to be prepared for what faces us tomorrow we must consider what we know and how we might approach any trial."
He gestures to Elin and says "You have already done so much for us all my dear, but if before you depart I might ask for a small tot of Brandy to ease my nerves, I would be eternally grateful."
Looking at Mika he will say "Do not worry child. We will not let harm come to you, but in order for us to help I beseech you to help us. This Shiroq mentioned your friend Xaja- do you think she could still be alive? If so where could they be hiding her? I know the hour is late, but do tell us all you can." Persuasion (with guidance): 5 plus 1
Turning to those in the company still awake he says "I bid you all get some sleep for now. I'm sure Fodd will protect us while Joviar and I discuss matters. I get myself to bed in an hour or two so that I too am fresh for the morning."
His attention finally comes to Joviar, saying: "Come my old friend, and let us ponder our situation...
"How well do you remember the day the Church of Purification came to town? I was much younger then, before I'd even met my Margaret. They were hailed as heroes of course, but I still remember my mother, gods bless her soul, telling me to not get into too much mischief when they were on patrol. I still remember feeling slightly scared of anyone carrying the Eye and Flame. It brought it all back seeing the Whiteblade.
"If they are once again rising in prominence there much be a reason for it. Clearly they seek this Mika girl as a witch of some sort in need to purging, but why would so many others being going along with it? There must be someone from the Leanin' who we can still call friend that we could ask- can you think of anyone who we can trust that we could call in aid for this trial?!"
Will use Lucky racial trait to re-roll that natural 1: 12
Corryn sits down at the table with Horrence and will write down a few things in his diary; he'll also listen (attentively, if something relevant comes up).
Before Ragnor heads off to meditate, she mutters, "Yes, I know, I can do the same thing."
Once Elin has finished speaking, she re-summons her graciousness and says, "Thank you Elin. I cannot repay you enough." Ella rises slowly to her feet and crosses to the discarded ash brush, placing it back by the fireplace. "Mika, if you want to stay in my room, you're more than welcome. Come up once Professor Mattiford is done with you, if you wish to." She bids goodnight to the rest of the company and heads up the stairs to her room.
Once she's in her room, Ella presses the door closed until it clicks, changes into her nightshirt and opens up the skylight. Despite the fact the night is clouded, and her eyes heavy, she lowers herself to the floor and crosses her legs beneath the window. She breathes in a deep lungful of cold night air. Then another. A third, tinged with the slightest edge of smoke, and her brow crumples. Sorrow washes over her attempt to find the peace she had once known and failing. Visions of monstrous, violent trees against a heavy sky. Imagined visions of children torn apart with the blessing of their parents. The bone-deep weariness that comes with utterly expended magic, veins drained of anything but the ability to summon the slightest spark, mind unable to settle for fear of helplessness.
She stands, forces her window, her curtains closed. She lays out her only spare nightshirt, obviously, for Mika to use if she comes up. And pulls the covers over herself.
(Before Ragnor went to sleep)
"Yes, of course, how could I forget. It has been something of a day and I am not accustomed to so much time among others who talk."
Elin offers a courtly half bow to Horrence.
He moves behind the bar and expertly pours a snifter of Brandy from a long brown bottle with a twisted neck, the cork-top coming loose with a satisfying 'pop' in his well practiced hands. Placing the brandy glass on a small tray on which he also arranges a pair of cherries, he moves silently back to your side and deposits the tray at your elbow. Stepping back without a wasted word or movement.
Mika smiles gratefully at Ella, and you infer (passive insight) that the thought of being alone in the dark tonight terrified the girl. She moves to follow you as you head toward the stairs and your room, but pulls up short at Horrence's question.
Her pale hands intertwine nervously as she speaks, and it's clear she's rife with worry and self-recrimination.
She shakes her head, as if trying to clear the memory from where it's superimposed over her vision. A visible shudder rips through her, and she puts out a hand to steady herself on the banister of the staircase up which Ella just disappeared.
She looks utterly distraught and hopeless.
((DM Post: If Corryn stepped in to ask her questions, that would happen here. ))
Joviar moves up beside the girl and gently lays a hand on her shoulder, the large draconic paw easily dwarfing the willowy girl's entire upper arm.
With a final glance at you and a grateful smile for Joviar, Mika moves hastily up the stairs.
Ella, a little while after you climb under the covers you hear the door to your room tentatively open and the soft sounds of Mika attempting to move stealthily into bed. You don't hear the sound of disrobing, which makes you strongly suspect the girl has just crawled under the covers in what she was wearing. This can't be hugely pleasant after days on the run, but on the flipside you infer that a real bed already feels like unimaginable luxury.
Horrence, Joviar turns to you and sits heavily down in an armchair beside the one on which you're perched with your brandy. He looks longingly at the drink for a long moment, but shakes his head with a snarl. Perhaps fortunately, he doesn't see shadow of a smile that plays over Elin's lips at this show of will.
Joviar frowns, stroking the tuft of hair descending from below his jaw.
Elin appears at Joviar's side, tray in hand. Joviar sniffs at the glass on it hopefully, then shoots Elin a wry look as he picks up the steaming mug of spiced tea and sips it before continuing. His mouth twisting slightly in distaste, either at the subject matter or the beverage.