Mithangee Chapter Six: Herald to the End of Days

[Journeyman]

The dawn arrived shining through mists and fogs hovering about valleys, hills, and forests surrounding Havenview. Rainbow hues formed through the dripping beads of water falling from gutters and eaves about the small community. The smell of a good rain permeated throughout each street and in each yard. All this the backdrop to a community recovering from storms not seen in a lifetime.

Havenview’s denizens began to survey the damage wrought discovering the storm fashioned its work well. Several buildings now possessed roofs devoid of thatch, and cobblestones, loosened by the running floodwaters, lay strewn about town streets waiting to be hammered back into place. Cries of frustration and anger could be heard. Each echoing through the streets while certain edifices were marked for destruction by Eredricht’s thinned town guard.

The center square, containing the fountain statues of Kirian, Eredricht, Sephram, and Roderick, remained silent despite the waking populace. The normal hustle and bustle of surrounding merchant stalls could not be heard nor felt, for not a single ware wagon was unlocked. All stood closed and stark against the emptiness and debris wrought by the gales the night before. The occasional hammer fall, mixing with a child’s frightened cries, could be heard harmonizing in the company of the frustrations and worries of the homeless. Havenview woke slowly, in eerie silence, to the tasks of rebuilding a town.

The surrounding countryside was far from quiet however.

Word spread quickly, as it is prone to do, of a dangerous plague spreading throughout the environs of Havenview. Those who made it back through the storm after witnessing Da’Shen’s episode at the Rest told grandiose tales. Stories of an outsider come to kill them all with the stink of disease and a wicked blade of the deserts. As each new homestead was given the news, clusters of peasants and farmers began to trek into town in order to see what was going to be done about the illness, the wandering foreigner, and most especially the loss of crops and personal belongings from the ravages of the storm. Another rumor found its purchase as well. A wandering woman dressed in grey rags was sighted heading east into the Wyld. In her wake came yet more illness and despair.

All had a singular, universal thought in their minds. Where was Eredricht and what were the Founders going to do?

************************************************************************

The Knight Protector woke from barely two hours of sleep the sound of rapid knocking on the Knight’s Hold stoop rapidly clearing his mind. Shouting his intention of answering, the aging knight protector threw on clothes, along with a set of leathers beginning to move toward the door slowly. Opening the portal, squinting against the light silhouetting his guest, Eredricht knew instinctively a hard day was ahead. He could hear the frustration. He could smell the fear. The town from his vantage had weathered the storm, but had taken a sound beating nonetheless.

He shrugged it off in his mind. Eredricht had faced far worse in his past than this. Havenview would as well with him in charge.

“Eredricht, I am thinking,” came the visitor’s voice, “No, no, I am knowing we are going to have a small amount of conversing to do with a gaggle of angry townsfolk.” It was Sephram, his old adventuring halfling friend, and fellow Founder of Havenview. Kirian, Roderick, and the Protector stumbled upon the half pint nearly twenty years ago. He was in a fix with the Raven Militia* back then, as were they, and had become quite useful with his nimble nature. He owed them his life, but the three other Founders were equally indebted to him.

“Eh? What have your ears and network of straw-laced-yokels come to tell me through their half-pint missionary?” Eredricht said smiling casually.

Standing eye to stomach with the Knight Protector, which was a good three feet, Sephram sighed. Red eyes looked up at Eredricht’s beaming, idiotic face and realized how much time was spent each day living due to the man before him. A big bear that saved a troubled young bargainer some many years back. Scratching his white albino hair, and bringing his full attention on Eredricht, Sephram bluffed composure to his face head cocked sideways for emphasis.

“Eredricht. I am thinking you not be the idiot this morning. I know how the dawn rays scramble your human mind, yet am still amazed your tongue waggles so casually.” The halfling smiled, and continued. “My fellow townsfolk tell me that Roderick’s and your own little obfuscated secrets of the illness are breached.”

The albino crossed arms over his small chest and continued.

“Further said, faithful citizens are coming to town today to have a little chat about your prior knowledge of the blight, your plan of action, and your plan to re-build after this cursed storm.”

“How much time do we have?” Eredricht said squatting down in front of the pale halfling. He could see that Sephram was already dressed for traveling, had been for some time, and was itching for something to do.

“I would say the majority of those able to dig out of the muck will be assembled at the fountain by noon. That is the conservative estimate. Those in town will be there long before.

Eredricht began to open his mouth.

“It is seven in the morning, by the sun’s rays, if you mean to ask.”

Eredricht’s mouth snapped shut. He began to think. Strategize. Four men were left to him if he pulled them off reconstruction, two gone missing to the west, and the remaining set on repairing important structures. Even if he did remove those cleaning up the storm’s damages he was too short to contain a mob. The answer came quickly.

“I will position my last four men available at the cardinal entrances into town announcing a town meeting at high noon in the square. I need your network to keep me informed on any new needs for the town, any developments in the wants of those coming to talk, and most importantly to get word to Kirian and Roderick. They must be there when our potentially angry mob arrives. You can find me penning letters inside if you need me.”

“Sure, I can get Roderick myself. Kirian will know soon enough. Should I get word to Hargrin?”

“The druid has enough to worry about. The Wyld in the area is getting hard to control from what I understand. Let him be.”

The halfling turned to go, but was held up by an afterthought from Eredricht.

“If you can arrange it I would like to have those who are interested in true dialogue to be interspersed with the less patient of our fellow residents. I do not want things getting out of hand.” Sephram nodded, and ran into town quickly lost from sight.

Eredricht immediately turned inside walking to fetch his man from guard duty in the Hold Hall. Upon opening the door he found the twenty year old asleep on watch and gently snoring. Tradition told the trained Protector a man was required on duty at all times in the Hold Halls. Eredricht meant to damn tradition again that day. There were plenty of buildings and townsfolk in need, and Yurry was obviously wasted here.

“Get your nine hells arse up and to attention!”

Yurry did just that.

“Go fetch Simon, Gregory, Phillip, and Nash. Tell them they are to come here. I then want you waiting in the center square with Gnobby. Go now!”

The young soldier hurried out without a word red faced.

Looking down the hallway Eredricht sensed the quiet. Light shone through barred cell windows causing dust motes to dance and sparkle. Swirling to their collective rest upon the stone floor, the particles made a harsh and silent backdrop against the Knight’s habitual memory of his prison. Walking quickly to the cell containing the Hold’s last remaining tenants, Eredricht stopped short upon his first glimpse of the trio. Each one was contorted, limbs bent into impossible angles, a mesh of intertwined arms and legs. There was no color to the flesh, looking as if dried in a leathersmith’s tanning oven. Bloodless corpses stared in no apparent direction, mouths open in mute and final gasps for breath.

Covering his lips, Eredricht quickly ran down the hall bolting the cell portal closed behind him. He wasted no time starting his letters to his liege in Kalimshire, Lord Derren Undereven. Yurry was going to have a far more important job to do when Gnobby and the young soldier met him in the square.

 

[Journeyman]

Kelsa laid the last plate on the Rest’s common table. Eggs, bacon, fresh baked bread, and pitchers of milk and wine greeted any remaining guests from the night before. Most were leaving to hurry home or on to whatever town would receive them. A separate table was set aside, at Kirian’s request, for her friends and the three strangers from the north.

Upon finishing with the last of the horses, Tobin quickly completed straitening the stables. After which, he locked down the place trying to make sense of the swirling thoughts inside his head. Going inside, rubbing hungry hands together, he immediately began to aide in an all too familiar dance of wiping down tables, sanding the stage, and spreading fresh straw about the Rest’s floors. He couldn’t approve more when Kirian asked him to fetch those still a slumber upstairs. It was barely eight in the morning when the only occupants of the entire Rest were finally sitting at the common room table ready to partake of a good breakfast spread.

Cade, Kelsa, Tobin, Tessa, Randall, Brishen, and Kirian sat at the same time beginning their collective feast. It was eaten in silence as each member of the table eyed the other with a sleepy resolve to wake up, get going, and start another day of life. Not but twenty minutes into the ordeal, steadfastly descending the stairs, came a ponderous sight. Moving cautiously, and with Trevor’s help, Da’Shen took the remaining stair moving the length of the common room under his own might. Satisfied, Trevor sat on the edge of the stage and began morning prayers noiselessly.

The silence was present before, but it was deadening at the Göshman’s arrival to breakfast.

The desert man looked around at each face staring at him, grabbed the bacon plate, and laid into the pile of meat with a grunt of approval. The silence continued save for the sounds of bacon entering the nomad’s mouth and sliding down his throat.

Brishen couldn’t stand it. Looking away from the sight he spoke.

“So. How about that storm, eh? I am thinking it to be bad for omens and the like.”

Tobin shrugged, and trying to get the nomad’s eye, carefully began chewing on his last piece of bacon in thought. Da’Shen looked at him solemnly.

“This is how you eat bacon!” The stable hand thought. Reading his look, the göshman smiled and slurped two strips down at the same time.

“It was a good show. Plenty of commerce for dad I’m sure. He’ll have to supply the whole town with lumber to rebuild with.” Randall sat back a pleased expression on his face.

Tessa eyed him carefully.

“Thanks for the dry off last night.” She said to Randall.

“Over the effects of the ale I hope?” Randall smiled vainly.

“The ale here is very good.” Murmured Cade bleary eyed.

“It does not come in halfling droughts either. What is your name again?” Randall crowed.

This began conversation in earnest as everyone shared names and specialties. Brishen spoke of his having no band of Tuathinkin to follow and on having to rely upon barding skills for survival. Tessa spoke of her love for locks, and Randall made light of her interest for things beyond them. Tobin shrugged off most attempts at conversation merely referencing to himself as a simple stable hand. Trevor spoke about his devotion to Iricsus until Kelsa, bored with his posturing, entered her own love of books. Cade was about to mention his being hired on by Kirian when the mage spoke his first words.

“Before I came down this morning I received word of an important upcoming event. I wanted to make you all aware of a little bit of information as a result of receiving this news. Information which could no doubt change your lives.” Everyone stopped his or her small talk.

“It has recently come to my attention that there is, in fact, a disease which is spreading throughout the countryside. It knows no counterpart with which to compare, and has befuddled all attempts to identify its cause, its cure, or its tenure in these lands. I am thoroughly convinced that there is a cure, a cause, and a foreseeable end to its existence here in Havenview nonetheless.

“I also know that there is a rather large group of townsfolk, and individuals who live in the surrounding lands, who do not see this problem, or its solution, as I do. They are currently en route to discuss this matter, as peasants do, with pitchforks, misguided anger, and a satiable thirst for knowledge. They are erroneous in another arena as well. They no doubt believe, through the actions of last night’s display, that Da’Shen is the root cause of the illness.”

Da’Shen spoke simply, “Then you have a group of misguided peasants which will soon be missing their heads. That might help you with your pestilence problem as well.”

Tobin dropped his fork of eggs.

“Now, master göshman that is no solution to the problem. However, I am thinking that it would be wise to remove you from the whole of the situation through your concealment in the basement.” Before Da’Shen could retort, Kirian, looking stern, held up a hand silencing him.

“I know full well how your kind generally deals with the misunderstandings of the common wetlander. I know also, Da’Shen, this is one glaring reason why wars are started with your ilk, and further, why your compatriots die every time they venture out of their oven of a homeland! Now if you will please excuse me I am trying to help you stay alive! Unless you would like to waste Brishen and Trevor’s efforts to stay off Furnish’s* hand for a little while?” Kirian finished by asking.

“No. I am in both their debts. I will cower in your wine hole if not to pay respect to their sacrifice.” The nomad said quietly.

“I am thinking there is no better of places than to hide than with the grape drink about you. Should not be so bad to abide by, no?” Brishen stated brightly.

Da’Shen simply stared at him, got up slowly, and walked through the door leading to the cellar.

“I am going to go and inform Roderick. He’ll need my help to prepare for reconstruction and the meeting of our fellow townsmen when the time comes. Fate be kind to you all.” Trevor stated as he left the Rest hurrying to his god’s place of worship.

Looking at each of the remaining teens in turn, Kirian made ready to leave himself. Getting up, drying his hands on a towel, he spoke quickly and to the point.

“I will not try and stop any of you from attending the meeting. It is going to be held in the town square, by the fountains, at high noon. I will only state,” and he paused looking up at them all, “that it will have the potential of being highly dangerous, highly volatile, and truly informing.”

“Yet, these events sometimes have a way of ironing themselves out without too much trouble, and Nefrotis willing, we will all be about our business by this very evening. Should you attend I would ask a simple favor.”

“What would that be?” Randall stated matter of fact.

“That you calm as many individuals down as you can. When you hear the words of insubordination then simply speak words of reason. Keep the peace. Sometimes a brawl can start through the expression of a single word, yet peace of the mob can be had through the same utterance.” Kirian shrugged, turned, and went back upstairs.

The group at the table watched him leave, and then turned into themselves talking about what was to happen. It was agreed that Brishen should go seeing as he had the better eye for gathering important information and calming people down, and this despite his apparent Tuathinkin nature. Tobin volunteered his brawn to help them out of a tight spot. Cade and Randall mentioned their love of magic, and their abilities to put to sleep any which might become out of control. Tessa merely stated she would help distract any peasant that Tobin had to calm through force thus aiding his brawling. Kelsa decided someone should stay at the Rest if Tobin went, and so she volunteered to do just that. Someone had to make sure no one found the Göshman below.

The whole of the group helped tidy up what remained of the breakfast, and then subsequently moved on to help Tobin and Kelsa complete their remaining chores ahead of time. Though no one spoke up, each held nervous thoughts in his or her mind. What was the disease caused by? How did it kill? Where did it come from? Why was there a desert man in Havenview? Time crept on, but eventually noon came to the center square falling upon the mass of people waiting.

The answers would soon come.

Yet the answers would change the course of so much to come. A piece had finally moved on the board. The world would tremble upon fate’s final outcome.

* The Raven Militia was a mercenary group with influence in much of southern Rothloria some 40 to 30 years before the game’s present time. The Founders of Havenview met and made much of their wealth fighting and defending Lord Derren Undereven in those days. The Ravens were destroyed in pitched combat after Eredricht, Roderick, Sephram, and Kirian foiled an assassination attempt.

*Furnish, Mithangeean God of death, is a major god in the pantheon aligned with Law and Evil

 

[Journeyman]

They came from all over the countryside, out from homes damaged and farmlands laid flat by storm winds, and together united in a common purpose. Answers to questions and acquisition of direction in these now troubled times.

They brought their children, their individual tales from the night before, and a need to be quieted. If insight from the previous night’s storm, the cause and solution to the illness ravaging their ranks, and that inner want for security could not be satiated then the founders would be replaced. A new order would come.

The four old adventurers were not about to let that come to pass. As each member and family came into town, Sephram’s network of loyal townsfolk were there to meet them, offer them temporary shelter, and lead them into the center of town. Those who were not going to listen to reason were quickly identified and asked to register their complaints with Eredricht’s few guards about the gates to town. Upon gaining their worries those few who could still not be calmed found themselves forcefully put aside, led to the knight’s hold, and placed there to cool down.

The hold filled to capacity at eleven.

It was at this point that the group from the Rest finally arrived at town center. The market square was filled to capacity. The four streets feeding the center bazaar held much of the crowd’s overflow, and many industrious townsfolk were forced to make their way onto sagging rooftops for better views. On the fountain lip, pacing to and fro, were two guards. Tobin recognized them immediately from their frequent visits to the Rest. Gnobby and Yurry were trying their best to shout down the crowd members who were the most impatient of the lot.

“I suggest we stay together. We might make a better unit should things go wrong side by side.” Called Randall across the noise of the crowd about them.

Tobin nodded, and seeing Cade getting lost in the press, picked the halfling up placing him on his shoulder.

“Should be able to get a few spells off easy from here.” Cade muttered.

Tessa was, at the same time as Randall’s suggestion, maneuvering herself closer to the fountain. At all times she kept her lithe form exactly opposite the oblivious townsfolk between her and Tobin. Any that did get too out of hand would get sapped in the base of the neck. At least if Tobin understood her tactics. She cringed at the thought of a miscalculation on his part. Hopefully they would have no reason to find out.

Half an hour passed, and then the crowd began to get louder. The four were approaching the fountain. Brishen actually began to sing, and many around him smiled and clapped their hands as their founders took the higher ground of the fountain edge.

“People are so fickle,” realized Brishen suddenly. The thought made him seem insanely oblivious. Typical of his kind, he forgot it by the next measure.

After another few minutes of clapping, jeering, and general ruckus Eredricht’s voice suddenly boomed out across the square. Sephram cringed as he moved through the crowd gauging moods and taking names of those who would benefit from Eredricht’s plan of action.

Kirian’s spell made an instant impression as Eredricht’s voice careened through the square, silencing the crowd, and rebounding off the town’s tight spaced buildings.

He held his left arm outstretched, palm open, and spoke toward a small glowing cube in his hand. Orange pulses matched the inflections in his speech while Kirian stared at the cube intently.

“Thank you all for coming.” His voice was far louder than it could ever have been when shouting. Calm, smooth, and serene the soothing echoes of his empowered vocals calmed the entire populace.

Someone still managed that Eredricht be the one thankful they came, and quickly became silent as Kirian looked his way sharply. The mage barely maintained concentration from Cade’s vantage.

“There is much information we would share with you all. Yet, to give it in this place, in this manner, would insult many of you, limit our ability to answer all questions in each mind, and keep us from our true work. The rebuilding of last night’s damage must be first in all of our lives.

Roderick, holy symbol glinting in the sun spoke next.

“Now, townsmen and women, this does not mean a talk about this illness will not happen. I assure you that I am placing what healing arts I can toward the discovery of this affliction’s cause and cure. I assure you that Fate will guide us all to the wisest course of action. I urge you to take some simple advice from what I have learned.

“The illness seems to spread through contact with those who have had it for longer than two to three moons. It is an illness that will kill you should you have it in your body for too long. Indeed, we know of several who have perished all ready.”

Eredricht stepped forward again quickly, hands upraised in supplication.

“I know many of you have traveled a long and perilous way to be here today. I know several of you have lost loved ones to this plague, which is assailing us! I know that you have all come here today because it is our wisdom you seek and trust.

“You should all know that we have a good plan in place to seek counsel. In Kalimshire to the north lies a Citadel of Cell *. I will be sending Roderick there to go and bring back several Healers who should be able to make quick work of this affliction. Patience is what we ask of all of you. Stay at home, rebuild what the storm sought to take from you, and know we will make right what the Wyld has determined to make wrong.

“In keeping with our wish to make sure that all of your needs are met, Sephram has moved amongst you and gathered those that he knows will represent you all faithfully. The names he will soon be bringing me are to be summoned to a meeting at the Rest in nearly one hour’s time. These individuals will report to each of you throughout the next few days. Rest assured.”

With that Sephram immediately appeared, as if by magic, next to Eredricht handing him a small piece of paper. Eredricht began to read names out loud, and each person selected seemed to gain the approval and nods of trust from those gathered in the square. After nearly thirty minutes, twenty citizens, the Founders, and Kirian’s breakfast guests from the morning were sitting in the relative peace of the rest.

Sephram picked his men and women well. They were informed, intuitive, and seemed to take in the information given to them in stride. What questions that were asked of the Founders were timed rightly, and were relevant to the matters at hand. The old saying that a Havenview man held his head together in times of trouble rang true in the Rest that afternoon. There came a moment when Eredricht summed it all up.

“Then we are agreed that you all know the description of the mysterious witch woman seen in these parts shortly before the first incidences of sickness came about, that we will wait for aide from Kalimshire, that any who wish to make more trouble in an already troubled time will be talked down or brought to the hold, and that those showing signs of sickness shall be brought to the Temple of Iricsus?”

The twenty assembled nodded their agreement.

Eredricht took a deep breath before continuing.

“Then there is one last request I would make of each of you. I need you all to select one able bodied youth to join my watch for the next few weeks. I am strained as it is. What’s more, I would have you select a group to search for those who have gone missing to the west.”

It felt natural really, the feelings that they all experienced at the same time. Tobin looked to Tessa who in turn found Randall looking at her as she gazed his way. Brishen let loose a small little exhalation as he watched Cade lick his lips expectantly. Kirian took it all in with a small smile playing over his elven features. He spoke before anyone had a chance to volunteer.

“Eredricht, I think I know just the group of individuals to take care of that errand for you. Tobin, Tessa, Randall, Cade, Brishen, and another will be more than able to handle your expedition to the west. They will depart early tomorrow morning?” The last question took them all in equally.

It was Tobin who spoke.

“We will do what we must for Havenview. If that means finding her missing, well then it is the least thing we could do. I think,” and he looked around at his new companions as they nodded their agreement, “that I speak for all of us.”

“Excellent. Then this hall meeting is adjourned. Until notice from Kalimshire, you are all dismissed!” Eredricht barked.

The Rest emptied, and closed early that day. Inside five youths and a göshman got very little sleep at all. All of them would soon wish they had.

*Cell, Mithangeean God of healing, is a minor god in the pantheon aligned with good and chaos.