Doom of the Savage Kings

[CanadienneBacon]

Alois eyed the Elf and grunted in ill humor. Who's he think he is, nancying in here an' hogging all the attention? Pretty boy foreigner. Alois's eyes slid to Lizt, then over to Bull Haverson. Never the brightest lantern on the shelf, Alois grunted a bit louder. No one looked over at him, so he stood up. "I'll do it. Kill the Hound." Worry soon settled in Alois's gut. Or it'll kill me, more like. Crikey. Big mouth. Too late now. Everyone's lookin'. Alois grabbed his mug and walked over to the table with the Elf. "But I'll need to know where its lair is."

Across the room, Lizt rolled her eyes and swore softly. Goon. She shook her head at Bull Haverson's look of concern and marched over to the table, sitting next to Hank. "You'll get killed, more like. You don't know what you're doing, Alois." Bitterness crept into Lizt's tone.

Alois shot Lizt a cross look. "That's not what Maisie said," the big man retorted hotly.

Gratien fell silent, uncomfortable with the tension between Alois and Lizt. He leaned back in his chair, waiting to see whether brawn or wits would win this round.

 

[Scott DeWar]

"So," Hank says with a ponderous look, "If that is not he actual spear, where is it? or who has it? And will they let us use it?"

 

[GlassEye]

When Hank breaks the uncomfortable silence brought on by the interplay between Alois and Lizt Llore shrugs and speaks up. "Lost. No one knows what happened to the spear after Ulfheonar died. There are no other tales about it that I know of." Llore shoots a glance at Gratien as if checking to make sure the elf agrees. Gratien suspects the weapon was buried with the warlord in his burial mound when he died.

Morgan Haverson lightly touches Alois on the arm to get his attention and then motions to the newcomers to town. "You should go with the strangers. They killed the hound once, they could do it again." She frowns. "You just need to figure out how to make it permanent."

 

[Scott DeWar]

Hank is deep in thought. 'Not seen since he was alive. A weapon of that nature would have been buried with him, I would imagine.' Where is the tomb of the hero?" A contemplative look is on his face.

 

[GlassEye]

Llore shrugs. "Maybe the elves know. My master didn't. Or if he did he didn't feel it was important to the story and didn't tell me about it."

Conversation wanders throughout the evening but always seems to come back to the Hound and its preying upon the villagers. Their fear and helplessness is evident and despite the proclamations of intent to slay the Hound earlier they seem lacking in hope. Three things are learned throughout the evening's conversations: the people feel they and their Jarl would be better off if the Jarl didn't listen to his rat-faced advisor, Sylle Ru; several felt any attempt to kill the Hound would be destined to fail without the blessing of Father Beacom, the local priest of Justicia; and some vocal few raised suspicions of the mad widow, Ymae, with barely veiled accusations of witchcraft, diabolism, and being in league with the Hound. If it weren't for their fear it seems likely that those few might manage to stir up enough of a mob to go after the widow.

As the night grows late some villagers sprawl out on pallets in the common room. Others make their way upstairs to rooms. None seem to be ready to brave the night despite word that the Hound was vanquished for the night. Bull Haverson offers to show the group to rooms.

[sblock=OOC]Unless you wish to prolong the scene this day is done and the PCs will wake in the morning. After that, whatever happens next is up to you.[/sblock]

 

[CanadienneBacon]

Alois conked out on a pallet at the tavern. He eyed the Elf, who took a chair in the corner near the hearth. Gratien didn't appear to sleep, choosing instead to rest quietly in the confines of his chair. Alois frowned at Gratien. Freak. Doesn't he sleep?

Lizt eyed Alois for a long while but gave up after Alois started snoring. She left the tavern and went home to her shop to sleep on her cot. In the morning, however, Lizt woke early and sat up in a hurry. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she threw on her warmest cloak, and quickly threw random items into a sack: a garrote, 100' of rope, and an empty flask. She shoved her father's old short sword in a leather sheath and strapped it, plus a dagger, onto her belt. Next, Lizt hastily pried up a floorboard in the shop and gingerly removed a small pouch. Her life savings. Seventeen gold pieces, and twenty-seven coppers. She placed the pouch of coins in her pocket. With a glance around the shop, Lizt huffed out a breath then bolted out the shop's front door, her old da's words filtering through the grey pre-dawn sky as she picked her way toward the tavern. You ne'er know wha' ta o'en road'll bring, girl. But jus' you go wit' an o'en 'eart, girlie, an' riches ye'll reap. Don' you be 'fraid, girl, don' you be 'fraid.

Lizt burst open the door to Bull Haverson's tavern and barged inside. "Well, what're you lot waiting for? Let's us to Father Beacom for a blessing, and then off with us to hunt the Hound!"

 

[GlassEye]

The eager Lizt stirs the rest of those assembled to put an end to the Hound from loitering over their breakfast. Leaving the Wolf-Spear (which dominates the east side of the town square) they step out onto the open square where the town's less brave inhabitants are already beginning to stir and set up what little goods they have for sale. The north side of the square is taken up by the chapel to Justicia and the road that winds up the hill behind it to the Jarl's stronghold.

As the group approaches the chapel a voice rings out. "Sin! Hirot's sin has brought judgement. Repent of your wicked ways and return to the arms of Justicia!"

It would seem Father Beacom has begun preaching early. The speaker is tall and thin with a cruel hawk-like face. He harangues the villagers with talk of the end of the world, how the hound is retribution for the villagers' wickedness, and how salvation can only be found by forsaking the material world for service to Justicia. Behind Father Beacom two men kneel stripped to the waist, known to Alois and Lizt as Brothers Aker and Haams. They punctuate Father Beacom's words with striking their own backs with long strips of leather.

[sblock=OOC]I'm really sorry for letting this languish for over a week.[/sblock]

 

[CanadienneBacon]

Lizt's face soured. I forgot what an old codger Father Beacom is. Ugh. Nevertheless, Lizt stepped forward, prodding Alois in the back to get him to step up, too.

Alois glared at Lizt. He glowered a beat, but stepped forward anyway, then coughed. "Father. We've come for your blessing. We're hunting the Hound, you see, and . . . ." Alois trailed off, uncertain. He shuffled his feet.

The Elf hung back, silent. He fingered his longbow and waited to see what response the good brothers of Justicia would offer. Nothing welcoming, I wager. These humans and their need for self-contempt. Gratien snorted.

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Tender snorts to himself and mutters, "Get a load of this blowhard. He makes a lot of noise for someone so fragile looking."

"Probably best not to antagonize him though. The people around here are scared and understandably superstitious. I'd hate for him to bring more unwanted attention upon us," Boral says quietly after overhearing his friend.

Kurl stretches a bit and grins widely at the man while fingering his own holy symbol. "Oh, I don't know. I kind of like him. He has a direct approach that I rather enjoy."

 

[Scott DeWar]

'Oh no', thinks Hank, 'law and order come head to head in law's church during a time of people's cling to law's power. This cannot end good.' Hank's face cringes to Kurl's challenge