Clarion Quietus (IC) Part 1

[TwiceBorn]

Kjellan kept his eyes on his toes. He had nothing to add to what Marakal had replied, and he intended to remain silent unless addressed directly.

[arnon]

Marakal held the legates eyes for a shot time then lowered his. What does he know?

"Are you saying he's a collaborator?" he asked, then remembered "...Sir. I have worked with the dwarf for sometime and have never had cause to suspect him... " he trailed off and shrugged, then raised his eyes for a short contact with the legates

[Doomed Hero]

The Legate's eyes narrow sharply, like the wolf who'd suddenly realized he might be looking at prey. He stood and walked slowly around the table. His black armor was studded and reinforced but rode him like a second skin adding an odd reptilian quality to his appearance. He wore a plain, unadorned longsword at his hip which his hand sat atop comfortably.

He touched the small holy symbol that clasped his cloak and whispered something in the harsh tongue of Izrador's devoted. An inky blackness crawled from the edges of his eyes to pool in the center and swirl downward like a brief whirlpool. He stared at Marakal for a long, silent moment. Then his eyebrows slowly raised. His back straightened and a slight hint of worry crept into his face. The wolf had suddenly seen his prey was not prey, but another hunter, but was unsure if he was a rival or an ally.

"I... am not sure what has gone on here before I arrived, lies abound in this place, but it is of little consequence. This pass has become quite important and it must be cleared. From all accounts that was the Dwarf's only concern the entire time he was here. To that end he and I are much alike, regardless of his true allegiances. His work has made mine much easier. Even with the mess the slide left, it's still only a matter of clearing rubble due to the dwarf. Except for the end. The area where the forward camp was. That area is still hard packed and full of stone. I need it cleared."

[arnon]

As the legates eyes darkened and his cool expression changed, Marakal again broke eye contact. What has he seen that made that change? he wondered. But that will have to wait, he needed to pay attention.

"I have no great affinity for the working with stone, just what I learned from the time with Dunkin and common sense. Tell us where you want us to concentrate, Sir, and we will do it."

[Doomed Hero]

"Engineer Clouse will take over for the dwarf in terms of technical expertise. The two of you may pick your team. Anyone or anything you need, you will have. I am assigning part of my own unit as security detail."

The Legate stood there for a moment, as if a bit unsure of how to continue, then spoke in a neutral tone. "That... wil be all."

[Doomed Hero]

Hornblower's Rest, Eastern Plains, Arc of Hanuud, Fall, Morning

"Oh, you all must be starving, come in, come in. Light but there's a lot of you!" The matronly woman smiled as she ushered them inside.

The journey across the plains had gone surprisingly quickly and smoothly. They always seemed to find food when they needed it, largely thanks to the skills of the cloaked archer, but the speed of their travels made their foraging attempts scarce, so noone ate particularly well. Sleep was also difficult in the confines of the wagon. After leaving the river the jostling of the wheels made real rest nearly impossible.

By the time they had seen the small hamlet they were on the verge of mutiny. Nerves were raw and tempers barely contained. Even Amethyst's usual good nature and soothing demeanor was having a lessened effect.

The townsfolk were few, and waved when they saw her, smiling and calling out greetings and happy returns. The thatched house that the top of the hill was modest and quaint, but the tantalizing scents rolling out of it made it seem like a gift from benevolent spirits, or perhaps an attempt to drive everyone mad. Dorin's stomach sounded like an angry Oruk.

"You can all call me Grandmother." She said as she led them in. "Everyone else does."

[Exile]

Though somewhat concerned at the number of fugitives pouring into the Rest, Amethyst could not help but show her relief and pleasure at having made it home once more.  For all that she was one of the rare few to travel frequently on the Shadow's roads, the joy with which she returned the locals' greetings was clear to see and hear.

Grandmother, however, she merely smiled at initially, helping to usher the others inside and divesting herself of her road-stained outer garb before attempting to steal a brief (but fierce) hug from the old woman.

[Sholano]

Dorin ducked through the doorway, once again taking on the slow, careful movements he always adopted indoors. He made his way to the nearest seat that looked like it would hold his weight and sat down, trying to keep his bulk out of the way.

The big Dorn was never terribly at home inside these days - it always reminded him of his time in the Bluff, spent largely hiding out in basements entirely too small for his frame. He was much more comfortable when he could see the stars, feel the breeze, and stretch his arms without punching a hole in the roof.

[Doomed Hero]

The house seemed more spacious inside than expected. It was really just one large room with a side door leading elsewhere. It was still cramped with so many, but the A frame construction allowed even Dorin to stand comfortably and gave of an atmosphere of spaciousness. Apparently Grandmother was used to having a house full of people. Comfortable chairs lined the walls, rough but sturdy with faded down pillows on the seats. A sturdy table sat in the center, round and large enough for eight people. A large brick mantle warded off the autumn chill. In the fireplace a large pot simmered. Fresh bread cooled on a rack on the counter in a corner.

The walls were lined with many shelves covered in earthenware pots and jars. Old tapestries and blankets hung behind them for insulation and decoration.

Grandmother bustled about, setting Amethyst to slicing bread while she ladled the stew into bowls and passed them out.

"So tell me everything." She said with a smile.

[Exile]

Offering a wry smile, Amethyst opted to imitate Grandmother and stick to Trader's Tongue rather than reverting to her native language.

"As you have no doubt guessed, I ran into evidence of trouble, and wound up collecting a number of waifs and strays", she explained, tone dryly amused.  "Fortunately, they're rather more competent at dealing with active trouble than am I, and we managed - via a considerable array of detours - to wind up here."

Pausing momentarily, she allowed herself a deep and steadying breath.  "The bad news is that your warning was wholly accurate.  When last seen by us, Grandfather was laying a trail to guide the Shadow away from... from the ruins.  I accompanied Siobhan, the only other survivor.  Ivy, here, was assigned to help us on the plains.  From there... well.  Full introductions might take a while, and we have more to tell you.  To show you, if you're willing.  But I admit that I'm scared about the safety of the Rest."

[Doomed Hero]

"Safety? Here? What do you mean?" Grandmother said finally sitting down, her round face wide-eyed with concern.

[Exile]

"You were right about Zane", Amethyst explained ruefully - tone verging on the apologetic.  "He and Donovan... the Hill is no more.  Though there are... anomalies.  Apparently he's not told them everything he knew.  Which is how Grandfather survived."

The younger woman shook her head.  "Siobhan, here, also survived.  And has in her care a gift from Grandfather.  He gave me another one, to carry in my thoughts.  But we've met legends, fought a horde of Shadow-beasts, discovered some of Siobhan's history... and now find ourselves here.  Some of us, at least, are meant to be going on up into the mountains."

[Ilona Ebonblade]

As Amethyst spoke, Siobahn looked down at the satchel.
"This satchel shields the book I carry from the eyes of the shadow, if this place has similar protection I can show it to you. And...it's an honor to meet you by the way, I've heard a lot about you."

[Doomed Hero]

She nodded as Amethyst spoke, hanging on every word. "He always was a tough nut to crack, and as wily as they come."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, dear." Grandmother smiled warmly to Siobhan. "A book you say? From that old coot? What in the world did he send you all this way with a book for? Very dangerous! If you'd been caught that would have been the death of you all!" she fretted, her smile turning to a look of concern and disappointment. "Well, bring it out. Let me see."

[Exile]

"We've not been able to open it", Amethyst admitted sheepishly, talking in part to give Siobhan time to bring out the precious item.  "The lock is inoperable.  And we haven't exactly stopped anywhere that seemed safe to try to work on it.  And what Grandfather gave me was Hope, which I suspect you might understand..."

[Doomed Hero]

Her eyes snapped up, as surprised as Amethyst had ever seen her. "What? That old bastard. That was never... Well. Wily indeed. That certainly puts you in a predicament, now doesn't it." She sighed, shaking her head. "How did he... nevermind. Let me see this."

Taking the book from Siobhan, she looked it over. Peering intently at the cover and the bindings she eventually shrugged. "I don't recognize it, but it must be important. I can't quite make out the symbol on the cover through the stain and buildup, and the corrosion needs to be cleaned, but those things are simple enough done. Just a matter of being careful and diligent really. I'll mix up some things to help you clean it all off after we finish eating. Do you know why he gave it to you?"

[wolfen_child]

Eirik followed after the big dorn. Dorin had the right idea of it, as far as he was concerned. After their trip, he just wanted to sit down on a non-moving surface for a few minutes and rest. He'd started to wonder if you could get 'land-sick'.

He hesitated at sitting down until the woman who insisted on being called Grandmother handed him a bowl of soup. He thanked her and sat, almost too tired to eat. Instead, he just pushed the food around his bowl, trying to catch bits and pieces of the conversation occurring between the three women.

[Doomed Hero]

He put the spoon to his lips enjoying the aroma and finally letting the road-weariness he'd been holding back overtake him. The stew was perfect. Hearty and rich, seasoned to perfection and amplified by his growling stomach. He forced himself to eat slowly, refusing to waste this opportunity to take his time enjoying good food and pleasant company.

He watched the three women examine the book and could not help but reflect on how attractive the pair of them were. It was like someone else was guiding his thoughts for a moment.

She was pretty, if a bit young for his tastes. Whatever she had seen had clearly shaken her, and he did have a weakness for vulnerability. The itch of the things crawling just below his skin, like someone penning letters with a scratchy quill on the inside of his chest, told him she'd seen something. It wasn't much. Minor, like a few bugs. Nothing worth worrying about. She wasn't hiding anything. She'd just seen a few things she shouldn't have.

"He always had a knack for finding things he probably shouldn't have." Grandmother said. "Do you think it's what Zane and this Donovan fellow were looking for?"

He enjoyed their conversation, not really paying much attention to what she was saying, or what he was replying, just allowing it to roll across his mind and away again. A comfortable distraction.

Things progressed the way they should have. She showed him to a room. He thanked her. She stayed. Her lips were soft. Her hair smelled like jasmine and honeysuckle. Her skin was smooth. Her flesh was pliant and willing. She'd been trained well.

Dorin was looking at him funny. He felt warm. His pants were very uncomfortable.

When it was over she fell asleep against him. His mind wandered.

He nodded off.

Then he felt it. Like being struck by lightning. He leaped up from the bed fast enough to throw it back and send the young Sister tumbling to the floor in a tangle of blankets. His muscles spasmed and his head snapped westward. Witchcraft. The most powerful he'd felt in years.

He ignored the girl's questions, pulled on his boots and buttoned his pants. The rest of his clothes he simply grabbed. Ramming his hat down on his head as he tore through the halls, he whisted for his horse, mounting from a run. The novices watched him leave with wide eyes. The young Sister stood in the doorway to the convent, wrapped in a sheet as he vanished through the archway.

A bird swooped down and soared at head level as he rode, a fierce-looking crow that eyed him oddly. "You felt that too, eh?" it said in a grating voice.

"Yep." he replied.

"How could you not? That was impressive." the bird squawked.

The man said nothing.

"You have any idea how hard it is to find a decent sized crow in this area before winter?" the bird said, irritated.

"Nope." He said.

"It ain't easy. Not that you care. 'I'm the Maleficarum. I'm stoic. I don't care if my friends get regularly crushed to death by angry demon horses.'" the bird mocked.

"Shut up." he said.

"Whatever you say, Mal." the bird said bitterly, winging higher.

[Exile]

For her part, Amethyst had very visibly relaxed.  While she might often have sought to provide comfort and hope for her travelling companions, it's clear that the Rest is somewhere that she finds both for herself.  Not merely the hat and mask were set aside - but the overcoat, scarf, and gloves were removed, too, while her mane of long hair had been unbound to flow loosely over her shoulders and down her back.

Even while poring over the tarnished and sealed book she seemed happy.

But the seer's growing agitation gradually drew her attention away from the precious artefact.  Frowning, she worriedly eyed him, before venturing a question.  "Is something wrong, Eirik?"

[neverfox]

Ivy had been sitting next to Eirik when he bolted upright and the motion nearly knocked her over, despite the fact that he didn't make any physical contact with her small frame. He had the look of a wild beast that found itself trapped in a corral. She knew that look. She had seen it a thousand times on the faces of newly-freed slaves not used to their freedom. And she knew he was going to bolt, most likely right through and over her. Lead, follow, or get out of the way.

[Sholano]

Dorin reached out to place one slab of a hand on Eirik's shoulder, getting a gentle but firm grip. He didn't rise, but his face registered concern. He looked around the room for signs of danger, then back at his companion. "Eirik...?"

[Ilona Ebonblade]

As Eirik jolted awake, the look of panic in his eyes stole all the relaxation from Siobahn's body. Her stew forgotten she jumped up to he feet, turning to face the door, a soft rustling sound accompanying a swirl of activity as ash from the fireplace seem to swirl to her hand unbidden, coalescing into the deadly blade she'd had earlier, motes of flame tracing the symbols along the grey blade.

[wolfen_child]

Eirik shook off Dorin's hand and started across the room in a hurry. He had to head west, sniff out the trace of witchery he'd tasted on the air. A sense of purpose filled his entire being, the immediacy driving out all other desires.

Here and Now came back to him with an almost sickening jolt. For a moment, it was like being two people at once, with two entirely different sets of emotions, goals, choices. Then he was himself again. He realized with a start that he was standing several feet from where he remembered being. His heart was pounding against his chest. The pieces of his vision started to coalesce into a picture.

Turning around, he glanced at the gathering, all eyes on him.

"The Maleficarum is moving west."

[Exile]

Mutely, Amethyst looked to Grandmother, in hope that the old woman could provide deep insight - if not necessarily reassurance - in response to Eirik's sudden revelation.

"For my part..."  She cleared her throat, venturing to offer her own knowledge.  "He is... the, ahh, he is reputed to be the msot powerful Witch Taker in the world.  A great warrior as well as a wielder of potent magics.  And rather than 'merely' having one servitor demon - an astirax - to assist him, he has multiple such entities bound directly into his flesh."

Shaking her head, she sighed.  "There are hints that he might, perhaps, not be willing.  He does not slaughter out of hand, and he is even said to be kind to those he does not hunt.  At the very least, he is not... conventional.  One might even wonder if the binding of multiple demons into him were not a means of control more than of assisting his work, but...."

Blinking, she refocused upon the present situation.  "I don't suppose that you have any idea of where he is moving West from?", she asked hopefully.

[wolfen_child]

Eirik searched his thoughts, his memories of the fading vision for some detail, some distinct sign or road. But it was all hazy, tied up in the other.

"There was a girl. A... Sister? And a convent," he frowned, shaking his head. "I... don't know."