Feint Whispers Chapter #4: The Hallowed Hills
- Thread starter jasamcarl
- Start date
The small caravan winds its way over the hill-ridden road which runs westward along the base of the Serpent Coil. Two days of travel are largely uneventful, though nights around the campfire are punctuated by the distant roars and drumbeats of nearby orc tribes.
Eventually, in the hazy early morning fog that is common to these hills, known locally as the Heartsblood, the caravan comes to within sight of a series of cobblestone buildings resting near the top of a particularly large hill. The largest building resembles a traditional northern chapel, with its rectangular walls and triangular roof. A pole juts out of the roof and at its pinacle one can faintly see a glowing light, as bright as any star.
The caravan winds its way up the hill until it reaches the flattened top. Infront of the chapel stands a group of men, dressed in plain, flowing brown robes. One, noteworthy instead for his plain, gray robe, steps forward. He is an aged man, all wrinkles, his hair being as gray as his attire. "Welcome! I am Martine Gerrard, abbot of this monestary. The fine men of Duvik's Pass have been sent by the King and All Father to aid us in our recent troubles?" He pauses as he catches sight of Jericho and leans forward, squinting to examine the black-armored warrior, "Our god has crossed our paths before, has he not? Yes! It's the D'orite mercenary who was in our company briefly. Jericho?"
Eventually, in the hazy early morning fog that is common to these hills, known locally as the Heartsblood, the caravan comes to within sight of a series of cobblestone buildings resting near the top of a particularly large hill. The largest building resembles a traditional northern chapel, with its rectangular walls and triangular roof. A pole juts out of the roof and at its pinacle one can faintly see a glowing light, as bright as any star.
The caravan winds its way up the hill until it reaches the flattened top. Infront of the chapel stands a group of men, dressed in plain, flowing brown robes. One, noteworthy instead for his plain, gray robe, steps forward. He is an aged man, all wrinkles, his hair being as gray as his attire. "Welcome! I am Martine Gerrard, abbot of this monestary. The fine men of Duvik's Pass have been sent by the King and All Father to aid us in our recent troubles?" He pauses as he catches sight of Jericho and leans forward, squinting to examine the black-armored warrior, "Our god has crossed our paths before, has he not? Yes! It's the D'orite mercenary who was in our company briefly. Jericho?"
Tokiwong
First Post
Jericho dismounts with a careless laugh, and gives the old man a bear hug, and then places him ostfly on his feet, "In the flesh old man, I told yah, the wounds would heal, eh, maybe a little faster if I didn't try and move so much, but they healed."
Jericho grows slightly more serious, "And of course we are here to help, in any capacity you may have need of us, or at least I am."
Jericho grows slightly more serious, "And of course we are here to help, in any capacity you may have need of us, or at least I am."
Festy_Dog
First Post
Norri gives the monks a friendly wave, and briefly compares them with his little carving. Not a bad likeness.
"Hello there!" he calls cheerfully, "Like the good D'orite said, we are at your disposal. I go by the name of Norri Tallgeese, and this little blue fellow beside me here calls himself Last."
"Hello there!" he calls cheerfully, "Like the good D'orite said, we are at your disposal. I go by the name of Norri Tallgeese, and this little blue fellow beside me here calls himself Last."
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KaintheSeeker
Explorer
Whitney steps out of the wagon and bows to the abbott. "Good day Father Abbott, my name is Whitney Del Noir." bows to him. "The mage of the Fist." she catches Mist as she leaps from the wagon in her arms. "And this is the precousious Mist.. there is a little bit of difficulty with whom is the master and who isnt." she says with a wry smile.
Mist's look seems to say she knows she is the one in charge.
Mist's look seems to say she knows she is the one in charge.
Mirth
Explorer
"Good morn, Martine. I am Tarowyn Coldoak," the elf says as he dismounts and extends his hand in greeting, "but Jericho tends to call me elfy." A wry smile appears. "I should see to the horses," Tarowyn continues as he begins gathering the various reins together, "Where are the stables?"
The abbot looks from one member of the Fist to the Last, briefly holding his gaze on Whitney and the blue creature. "It is a joy to meet you all. You are welcomed into the care of our poor order."
Once Tarowyn has seen to the horses, the abbot leads the party into the chapel building as robed brothers swarm over the caravan to unload the much needed supplies.
As you enter the shaded, quiet halls, the monk turns on the party and speaks in a somewhat desperate tone, his voice cracked, but lively.
"Our need for assistance is greater than you know. The earthquake tore apart our deeper crypts, opening into a large series of caverns. A week ago, we sent three of our members to recover supplies and embalmed bodies which had fallen into these caves from our crypts. None of the three have returned, and our God has not sent us the means to divine what is occuring under the earth." He turns to the D'orite, "Jericho, Brother Durham, my second, was leading the party." Signs of moisture can be seen in the old Abbot's eyes.
Once Tarowyn has seen to the horses, the abbot leads the party into the chapel building as robed brothers swarm over the caravan to unload the much needed supplies.
As you enter the shaded, quiet halls, the monk turns on the party and speaks in a somewhat desperate tone, his voice cracked, but lively.
"Our need for assistance is greater than you know. The earthquake tore apart our deeper crypts, opening into a large series of caverns. A week ago, we sent three of our members to recover supplies and embalmed bodies which had fallen into these caves from our crypts. None of the three have returned, and our God has not sent us the means to divine what is occuring under the earth." He turns to the D'orite, "Jericho, Brother Durham, my second, was leading the party." Signs of moisture can be seen in the old Abbot's eyes.
Tokiwong
First Post
Jericho grimaces, his fists clenching, "I will find him, he must still be alive, he saved my life once, and now I must do the same," his eyes harden with anger, and loss, "I will delve into the earth and face any horror to save the good brother, I know my friends will aid me."
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