Oh What a Night, Part II
Apologies for the lag time, but am on vacation through the Greek isles at the moment. Internet access (and specifically EnWorld access) has been spotty and the excursions and schedules haven't allowed much "downtime" for writing.
BUT, I have it now (this afternoon) and will be taking full advantage of it.
Never fear, I will be returning to the states in 5 days and should then by back to a more "relaxed" (and computer-heavy) lifestyle.
Thanks to all for your interest and hope you're enjoying it.
For now, back to our intrepid band in Orea...
--SD
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In the rectory, the Gilean priestess they had met that afternoon was consoling the other healing goddess’ annointed Daughter who had suffered a bit of a scare from the thieves in their living quarters.
She told Alaria and Haelan they were welcome to go to the study and await Brother Berk there. “His meditations should conclude shortly,” supposed the young woman.
“Do you need consoling, Haelan?” Alaria quipped as they made their way down the short hallway to the library study of the priest of Sorilorr.
Haelan exhaled deeply, “Thank you Alaria. I think I am alright now.” Said the hilltender in all seriousness. “They are quite a frightful sight, aren’t they? I will admit that.”
Alaria rolled her eyes at Haelan apparent (and usual) lack of understanding in the ways of sarcastic wit.
The two waited patiently for the brother’s return. Alaria perused some of the rows of scrolls and manuscripts on the shelves. Most of them were of little interest to her. Various local lore, histories of Welford, civil records of births and marriages and the like. She did note a small section of books that seemed to deal with more esoteric and philosophical topics, including one tome that dealt with recording the rites of Sylari worship and another on the “historic” account of the Daughters of Gilea and the “Sainted Daughter, Phsyha of the Flaming Hair” who is said to be the order’s first “Protectress” who saved the order of Gilea from extinction in the last age (“Should be ‘the mythological account’” to Alaria’s thinking).
Brother Berk entered quietly and went straight to his desk. “I’ve been told of the the evening’s events. Most extraordinary.” He dipped his quill in the inkpot and began writing furiously. He continued, without looking up, “Interesting, indeed, that one day a mage from R’Hath comes to Welford. The very next, my study is compromised by creatures cursed by unnatural disease.”
Alaria said nothing. Haelan’s gaze, however, turned uncharacteristically stern. “You don’t mean to insinuate that Alaria had anything to do with those godless monsters?”
At this, Berk’s eyes looked out over his spectacles and his quill stilled for a moment.
“Certainly not Hilltender. They were only here to steal the very item that was left in my care. I’m sure there is no connection between your presense and theirs what so ever.” He looked back to his parchment and again began writing.
Haelan was rather flummoxed but said nothing further.
Alaria stepped forward. “Just so, Brother Berk. So perhaps you’d care to tell us what it was about that item the creatures wanted? We have already discerned that they were under the instruction of the evil mage from whom we claimed the orb where it was most definitely being put to some sinsiter purpose. But we cleansed the item with holy water of the goddess Tyris and as you noted earlier, the orb does not seem to have any inherently destructive properties.”
The wizardess had had more than her share of dealings with sages and students of various magical practice. Brother Berk struck her as one of these men, and despite her irritation at his less than friendly manner, she was hoping such an academic sort of discussion would get his attention.
Brother Berk continued writing, as he had been the whole time Alaria had spoken. When it seemed he would not respond, he again looked up over his spectacles and sighed.
“I see this will have to wait.” He set down the quill and clasped his hands together, looking at the mage and halfling with what might been taken as anticipation. When they said nothing further, he began to share his findings.
“Well, I can tell you nothing about any evil mages or their servants. But you are correct in your assumption about the orb. There is nothing inherently evil, about it. Neither is there anything inherently good.”
“Uh-oh. That can’t be good.” Haelan mumbled. The pun of his comment completely eluding him.
Berk ignored the interruption and continued, “ It seems, from what limited time I had with the object, to be elemental in nature. Specifically, the element of Air if I had my guess.
“As you well know, lady of R’Hath, there are many items of magical nature which are tied to one elemental plane or the other to fuel its power. The Histories of Orea are full of tales with swords that burst into flame or freezing ice, rings that allow the wearer to fly, breathe underwater...”
At this Haelan burst in “Potions that do that too! We have some of those!”
Berk looked with open disdain at the halfling, “Quite…May I continue?”
Haelan looked at his bushy blond hairs atop his feet. Despite his goddess’ tenets of respect for other faiths, the daelvar was finding it more and more difficult to “like” this priest of the All-Knowing.
“ The process is not completely unknown to me, but requires a great deal of time and energy to bring about. I am not one for the crafting of such items, nor are there any within the Laklans that I can think of who would be engaged in such practices. The Green Witch would be capable, I suppose, but she is more interested in her herbs and potion-making.”
Now it was Alaria that seemed annoyed. She knew the orb was not Rhea’s nor was she very much concerned with who made it. She just wanted to know what it did and how to use it. Noting her folded arms, Berk began again.
“Though the disctinction between enchantments applied by divine methods and arcane ones have their subtle but notable differences, I could not specify the properties of this crystal. Nor could I discern the specific nature of its powers.”
Alaria looked confused, as did Haelan.
“In other words,” Berk continued with apparent exasperation, “that orb is not strictly arcane in nature, nor divine. I would warrant the guess that it possesses properties of both kinds…or at least applied with both practices.”
“So,” Alaria summed up, “it is elemental in nature, you think specifically Air ), and is an item of both arcane and divine origin?” Though very little information, Alaria was forced to admit to herself that what the scribe-brother said made sense based on what she had witnessed
“Quite.” Brother Berk replied. With that, he took up his quill again and began to wrtie. As he did so, he concluded, “That is all I can tell you. Perhaps Rhea might tell you more. If I had more time, I might be able to glean more from it, through the grace of the All-Knowing. But given this evening’s event, I would thank you to get it out of Welford at your earliest convenience.”
Alaria, completely unsatisfied with Berk’s services, simply nodded and forced a civil “Thank you for your time, Brother. We intend to do just that. Come Haelan.”
Haelan blurted a brief, “Oh, ok. Good evening to you, Brother.” Then under his breath to Alaria in the hallway, “May Faerantha grant your soul a fragment of her warmth.”
Alaria found this to be rather amusing but was surprised to see an actual scowl on the halfling’s face as they exited the rectory and met up with Fen, the gnome and the giant ferret waiting for them in the lawn.
Haelan’s mood improved somewhat as he acquainted himself with the gnome, Gnobert, and was quite taken by the immense but very affectionate “Buttercreamshadowfeet.” The halfling had heard many tales about gnomes in his days, but had never actually met one. The two gabbered most of the way down the road to the pathway that broke off to climb the wooded slope to Rhea’s cottage.
The gnome and giant ferret gathered quite a bit of attention from the townsfolk, but since they were in the company of the R’Hathi magess (whom they had all heard about by now) and one of her attending men.
There had been quite a bit of gossip about the elegant magess from the “far away” land and her “stable of males.” The goodwives and shop-women tittered among themselves about whether the dark-haired swordsman or the golden-tressed Redstar Knight or the "carrot-topped druid" were the more handsome. One tale included the steely-haired elf but since he had disappeared earlier that day, some women refused to believe the magess had an elf in her entourage. Rumor also claimed that with the ruckus earlier that day in the constable’s office, that the wizard-woman had ensorcelled that “crass boor of a baker.” The charming druid had made quite an impression on several of the younger maids outside of town, though none were so daring as to approach him. None of Welford’s women wished to get on the bad side of a R’Hathi mage.
Alaria, Fen, Haelan, Gnobert and the giant ferret, Buttercreamshadowfeet (“I calls her ‘BC’ fer short,” Gnobby offered.) awaited their companions at the pathway that led up through the wooded slope to the cottage of Rhea, the Green Witch.
As the shadows of evening overtook the secluded vale, the paladin, dwarf and swordsman came racing up the road to meet them.
Duor rubbed his shoulder where, it was later told, one of the militiamen at the training session had gotten in “a lucky shot” with a quarter staff. But the dwarven rogue refused Haelan’s offer of healing, claiming it would be fine. Coerraine smirked a rare grin when Duor told the story, believing it to be a clear indicator of cosmic justice and penance for the dwarf’s transgression earlier in the day.
Braddok began, with some urgency, “You won’t believe what’s happened…”
Fen answered deadpan, “Yes. Wererats. We know.”
Braddok was a bit befuddled. “What?! Were-…Huh? No!...WOAH! What’s that?!” Braddok’s hand went immediately to his sword as the large masked ferret face poked out from behind Fen.
Alaria attempted to get things back on track. “It’s fine Braddok. Some new ‘friends’. What’s happened?”
His hand left his sword but he continued staring at the six foot long furry creature and its three-and-a-half foot tall smiling curly-bearded handler…whose clothing seemed to change from red and yellow to shades of blue and dark purple as he watched.
“Well, boats have begun arriving from South Imer and Lakesdown <
the two villages on the south side of Lake Imerlis, whereas Welford sat along the north-northwestern coast > with refugees from there. South Imer has already been overrun by the goblin army. Look. You can see there.” The swordsman pointed to the southeast.
From their location higher up the moutain slope, overlooking the town and harbor, an orange glow in the darkening evening was perceivable on the clouds where, according to Braddok, South Imer was supposed to be.
The news did not sit well with any of the companions. Alaria’s brows lowered. This did not bode well for the hamlet…though its rim of low mountains seemed naturally defensible…and if the goal of the goblin army was, indeed, the elf nation of Miralosta, they would have no cause to assail Welford on their was to the great forest realm.
“That is, indeed, ill news, Braddok.” Alaria began. “We will go see Rhea, as appointed. Then we will discuss our next move. Perhaps it would be best for us to follow Erevan sooner rather than later.” With that, the magess began the climb thrugh the wooded slop to Rhea’s cottage.
The others of the group, including the curious (and uninvited) Gnobert the gnome and his giant ferret, fell into pace behind her.
Next: OWaN Part III