Valley of the Dead: Chapter 1 "A gathering of heroes"

Hearing the good news, that their quest is successful Kye raises his visor and yells back to where Jill last was. "HARKEN MISTRESS JILL!!" he bellows loudly, "THY PLAYMATE IS SAFE AND TIS SEEMS THEE WHITE LADY'S POWER HAS BEEN VANQUISHED FROM THIS PLACE!!"

Not thinking the brute coming forth hostile Kye takes up a postion at the end of the bridge on the side the couple is approaching. Still weary he stands with the point of Yasaderian on the ground both guantlented hands relaxed over the pommel of the weapon. The picture of a Helmite on guard.

Latham rolls his eyes with his back turned to the Cleric. This man was a pious, pompous ass, and it just perpetuated the stereotyped judgment of his that most people of the cloth were overzealous morons. He was inwardly thankful that Keht had stayed by his side and not lagged behind, as he was still contemplating leaving this farce with a word. But something inside, maybe a conscience, told him that there could still be fun or information to be had. Afterall, he was going to need Lathander and its ilk to clear out the undead masses if Latham was going to find answer, power, possibly riches, and whatnot.

Stating with his back turned as he made his way up to the podium, "I guess my tiny little wizard-brain thought that it'd be more difficult to fight blind and that these burly men would lose their will to shed blood. But apparently they relish the challenge of swinging swords with the lights out. I'm sure you know what that's like, right Priest? Playing with swords in the dark?"

Jill seems to be too far away to make out the Cleric's words, so she just waves from amid the tall grass, that reaches almost to her waist, and continues searching for whatever poor critter she was chasing.

Peth remains hidden, while Kye patiently waits in the middle of the bridge, as Thok and Merry approach. The girl follows behind the large Half Orc, but as soon as they reach the Helmite, the human lass pokes her head from behind the muscular Barbarian and smiles pleasantly.

"Hello master Cleric, I am happy to see that a follower of the Vigilant One has graced our lands and is protecting us from evil. My name is Merry, and this is my new found friend, Thok." - she playfully pats the Half Orc's bulging biceps.

The girl steps up and offers her hand, her ravishing beauty now apparent to Kye and the hidden Gnome below.

Everyone can feel a brisk chill overtaking the air, despite the lack of wind, but the silence is only disturbed by the creek washing against the bridge's foundations, and the singing of the last birds that have not yet flown south for the winter.





The woman behind Alevyth clicks her tongue and replies with a calm voice. "Well you certainly are prettier than any thug I've ever met. But somehow that piece of entrails hanging from your right knee blade seems to disagree with your peaceful nature. - still, her voice holds no malice, and maybe even a hint of amusement can be caught. - Tell you what, I will now lower my sword and lead you by the arm towards the cathedral. I'm sure Lazarus would like to hear out your position. This witchcraft should disperse soon i think."


Ferviel looks quite irritated to say the least. His brows thicken as he grasps the hilt of his mace. "I swear by Lathander's holy light, I should bash your skull in right now you insolent little turd!" He stops and eyes Latham over. "But this operation will need bookworms like you - I hear there might be a Lich in the Valley. They always target the arcane spell-slinger first." Ferviel grins wickedly, revealing his teeth. He sure doesn't act like a bucket of sunshine, which is strange, as Latham knows that this is certainly a part of Lathander's dogma and usually priests of Lathander are positive and optimistic morning people.


Galen seems excited at the mention of the Chirch of Pelor, and he puts the quill and parchment aside. "Ho! This is great news indeed, friend! 'Twas a long time ago that i met a follower of the Solar deity worshiped far to the East, Pelor - a brother to our Lathander. You are most welcomed amongst us! I will take pleasure in the chance of slaying undead with one such as you by my side! - the man extends his mail clad fist, the red polished armor gleaming brightly in the sun. - Had i not neglected my studies in lore for the more practical lessons of combat, i would probably have heard of Erykul. I'm sure that Lazarus might have heard of his exploits though, even if you hail from Elysium."

"Greetings M'Lady," Kye says with a short nod. "I am the Eye of The Watcher, the Hand of Helm, and the Fist of The Vigilant One here in the world of mortals." he announces as stiff as a statue, his eyes locked on Thoks'. His hands never leave the pummel of the great blade that rests before him.

"I am on a quest m'lady, but should ye need... assistance?" The young warrior asks still staring down the half-orc.

"Well you certainly are prettier than any thug I've ever met. But somehow that piece of entrails hanging from your right knee blade seems to disagree with your peaceful nature. Tell you what, I will now lower my sword and lead you by the arm towards the cathedral. I'm sure Lazarus would like to hear out your position. This witchcraft should disperse soon i think."

Alevyth frowned inside his helmet as he looked about despite the dust making vision impossible. His ears alert as he could make them, he didn't exactly like the way his intent was being dismissed.

"I cannot see where my opponent is to gauge attacks while blinded, and I declared rather clearly I would strike down any who continued hostilies against the wishes of the Vigilant One. Did you not hear me speak before I was blinded!?" He grumbled, but when she began leading him, he would not resist, following and keeping alert for any additional attackers, readying his shield to block.

"Me Thok. Only Thok, perhaps big, but not any part of someone else's body. We searching for little human. Boy or girl, Thok can't remember fine." States the half orc, the last sentence almost to himself, although out loud..

Sensalar smiles that his mention of his kinfolks' religious affiliation should elicit such an enthusiastic response. "Indeed he may recognize the name Erykul master...umm Galen I believe you said. Although only a foot-note in religious history now, I believe my noble forefather would have felt a certain kinship with the followers of the Morninglord. Most especially those that express their faith in a more straightforward manner, as I hear of the noble Order of Astor and as he did in life. If I get a chance perhaps I will speak to your brother in faith. He may even teach me more of my illustrious ancestor, as the centuries have left only fragments of the records of his life in my family's possesion."

Merry lifts the edge of her skirt slightly in a graceful bow. "I am honored to meet you master Cleric. Your name would be most useful as well, but your assistance I think would be best. I am searching for my little sister - the lass emphasizes the word and shakes her head at Thok. - Jill is a pain in the arse, to be honest. She is always sneaking out and coming to play here in the wilderness, despite our parents and myself telling her time and again how dangerous it could be."





In less then a minute, Alevyth's vision returns to him, as the annoying golden dust harmlessly dissipates away. The first thing he sees, is a tall lean woman wrapping her right arm around his left. She seems relaxed, as the features of her face are visible beneath the raised visor of her helmet. Her face is delicate and almost doll-like, in heavy contrast with her polished gold-laced chainmail and the bare longsword gleaming in her left arm. The woman turns towards Alevyth, judging him over with her green eyes.

"So, you are a Helmite then? This could have been a misunderstanding, but it is not my place to judge. And no, i could not hear you speak, I was beneath the podium, guarding Lazarus."

Around him, the young lad can see that the violence has ended, and that those who had not been beaten unconscious or wounded, had already been herded off towards the Cathedral to the East of the square, behind the podium on which Lazarus still stands, motionless and stern as if he were a statue.

About ten feet from him and the woman, Alevyth can see the Wizard he encountered earlier, who apparently had managed to anger the Dawnbringer enough to make the Cleric's face turn red with rage. They were both headed in the same direction as well.

Over at the podium, Galen and Senslar are still talking when Lazarus speaks above them with a stern voice: "We will conclude this meeting for now. Galen i leave you in charge with restoring order and continuing with your enrollment duties. I want everyone and anyone involved with this farce to be presented inside the main hall immediately."

With that the Paladin goes down the improvised staircase and heads off towards the Cathedral. In the distance along the street headed over to the South gate, the Druid can see a familiar large man, with a gigantic ram alongside him, headed towards the square. He holds the grim standard made of decapitated zombie heads, and has gathered as mall crowd around himself.

Galen nods and points towards the massive wooden Cathedral doors, who now swung open like the gaping mow of a monster. "Well you heard Master Lazarus. Go in and raise your voice when the time is right. I am sure he will share his knowledge with you, once things have been settled out. I still have a mess to fix and... - his voice trails off as he stares at the approaching group in the distance. - Lathander bathe me in sunlight, what is this now! More violence?"

Galen's voice sounds annoyed more than anything, as the rustling of the distant group starts to overtake the crowd in the square as well.

Alevyth relaxed noticeably, well, noticeably to the woman as his vision returned. To others, his posture changed little, and it was only her sense of touch that betrayed his less rigid stance as he followed her lead. His blue eyes scanned his captor, his own helm possessing a mostly open face. She was rather lovely, though many would be unlikely to notice her face so much as her shining armor, drawing away from her own features.

"So, you are a Helmite then? This could have been a misunderstanding, but it is not my place to judge. And no, i could not hear you speak, I was beneath the podium, guarding Lazarus."

Alevyth frowned slightly for a moment, before replying carefully. "I do not call myself a Helmite, though I align myself with the goals of the Vigilant One and the Broken God. I seek to protect those who cannot protect themselves, and try to shoulder their burden where I can..." He replied, hoping the girl did not decide he was some form of heretic and put him to death, and that he did not damage his chances of a minimal reprisal for his attempts to quell the combat.

Seeing Latham and the red-faced Cleric, Alevyth chuckled slightly. "It would appear that fellow is as charming to everyone else as he was to me, and managed to get himself into some trouble. I'm surprise someone hasn't taught that man a lesson in proper manners..." He commented lightly, gesturing to Latham.

Peth shrugs in annoyance; Tatters' position doesn't make any sense to him, unless the girl was somehow flying. Which seems unlikely, or the girl'd no doubt be looping round the treetops even now, he thinks to himself in amusement.

He abandons his study, walking back up the stream's bank to the bridge. Standing next to Kye, he gives a quick half-bow and introduces himself.

"Forgive my companion, his willingness to be helpful sometimes seems to overwhelm any other concern. I'm sure many people find this comforting." He flashes a quick smile at Merry and continues. "My name is Peth; the cleric is Kyelingar. Jill is around somewhere; I think I heard her off in that direction a few moments ago. We were helping her locate Tatters, who is down in those bushes under the bridge. I've not retrieved it, since Jill informed me Tatters does not like to be handled by strangers, but perhaps it will not fear your touch, my lady."

Glancing up at Kyelingar, Peth adds quietly, "I mislike the growing cold, Helmite. It feels... unnatural. Perhaps we should help Merry collect her sister and be on our way to shelter."