Midnight - Crown of Shadow

[Ashrem Bayle]

A cold wind blew through the small town of Calim’s Spring. It was the beginning of fall, and a chill breeze foretold of a dreaded winter to come. Dark clouds gathered above, red tinged lightning occasionally spidering across the sky. Any other place would have saw the darkened clouds as a promise of rain, but here on Aryth, they served only to block the light of a pale sun and cast a grim shadow over the land. That shadow seemed darker today....

The morning dew was all the moisture the ground would receive this day. And the next, for it didn't rain much anymore on Aryth, and when it did, it was often the black blood of a fallen god instead of sweet life-giving water. The air was heavy with humidity, moisture in the air that only exaggerated the bone chilling cold.

The grey light of early morning slowly washed over Calim's Spring and slowly, lethargically, it's people stirred in the light of a new day. They had nothing to look forward to, rising only because they had to. Wood must be cut, animals fed, and the dwindling stores of food protected or prepared.

The sun seemed dimmer today, the clouds struggling hard to hold back the light. The morning was unnaturally quiet. No crickets chirped, no goats bleated. The lightning that crawled across the horizon made no sound. No thunder.

A raven called from the top of the blacksmith's shop. The shrill sound cut through the silence like a rusted blade, its exclamation heralding the dawn. Or perhaps it had spotted a bit of carrion nearby? Or maybe, just maybe, it sensed the evil that approached along the Old North Road. Something was coming.


OOC: You are free to begin the game however you like so long as you are within the town or within a ¼ mile. It is roughly 7:00AM. Temperature is 24 degrees.

Calim’s Spring
Population: 313 (257 Erenlander, 18 Dorn, 38 Sarcosan)

Places, People, and Note:
Blacksmith – Ran by Burn Tyrgen, He does not make weapons.
Guard Barracks – Guards wear orange tunics when on duty. The legates allow them to carry maces. They are in charge of maintaining the 6ft wall around the town.
Hunter’s Lodge – Hunters must hunt with slings or traps. Martial weapons and spears are not allowed.
Leather Tanner – Ran by Darren Tell
Constable Grady Stover – Runs the town and commands the guard.
Torm Evenhand – Captain of the guard.

Calim's Spring obeys the laws of the Shadow. Occasionally, one of the Night King’s minions will come by and observe the town for a while before moving on. No one knows when they are coming, but their retribution is both terrible and swift against those who do not obey the Shadow’s mandates.

These mandates are as follows:

Armor and anything considered a Weapon of War is illegal.
Literacy and books are illegal.
The Practice of Magic is illegal.
Failure to obey an order given by a Officer of the Shadow is illegal.
Plotting harm against the Shadow is illegal.

Disobeying any of these mandates is punishable by however the highest ranking officer of the Shadow sees fit.

 

[Guest 11456]

Choric stretched his arms into the air. He never really liked the night shift much. But when his turn came he gladly served as it was his duty to the village. He quickly pulled his wool cloak about him again. My what a chilly day it was. The night had been cold as usual. As he stood to stretch his legs he wondered what the day would bring. Soon the morning shift would arrive. He would be off duty.

For most it would be time to rest. But Choric just couldn't think of rest. Not when he was so close to finally mastering some magic. When he got off duty, he would head home, but then he would sneak out and meet up with Char.

Someone else might worry about being caught. But not Choric. After months of watching others he had learned how to become more stealthy when he went to meet his mentor.

While waiting for the morning shift to arrive he scanned the village and then turned and glanced over the wall. Nope! Nothing much happening.

 

[Ashrem Bayle]

Feel free to work other characters in with your own. Your background should give you some ideas.

 

[Emiricol]

Elig awoke, and his first waking thought was how much he hated cutting wood. Hated the necessity of it. Stores had to be stocked whether he liked it or not. Usually, it was "not".

Elig realized then why he had woken up. Some terrible, deep sense of dread filled him. Then just as quickly, it had passed. He shrugged it off as the sticky residue of a nightmare, which were all too common.

Elig rolled over, absent-mindedly flicking his cloak out. He had used it as a blanket, as he always did, and flicking it was a good way to remove loose vermin that might have settled in during the night. With a sigh, he put his clothes on, then his blanket - which now resumed it's intended function as a cloak - and then his boots. Elig liked his boots. They were reliable, and that was one trait Elig respected.

With a stretch, elig moved to the table, where the remnants of last night's dinner lay. The fat from the remaining rather greasy squirrel had congealed, but Elig did not have time or wood to spare to light a fire to re-heat it. With a grunt, he pried the meat from the pan and ate it quickly in the hopes he would not have to taste it.

If only he had been so lucky. Elig grimaced, and washed it down with a quantity of water. He thought to himself that such fare was better than most people could enjoy, and again regretted that his sense of honor would not let him just leave this place. The people of this small settlement had taken his family in, even helped them rebuild their lives. It was only fair that now, when his skills in hunting and logging were fully realized, he should return some of that kindness to the village.

It was the right thing to do. And besides, where would he go?

With that thought, Elig wandered out to meet with his fellow woodcutters. He waved to Choric. He'd long known Choric - it was a small settlement, after all - but had never really been close. Neither had he ever had any issue with the man.

"Well met, Choric. How was watch? Anything we should be alook for?" he said in Erenlander, his speech as always direct and simple.

 

[Swashbuckler]

Kal woke with a start. He'd heard something.

Then he heard it again ... the caww caww cawwing of a raven perched on top of the smithy, right outside the doorway to the family dwelling. Morning already. Kal wore much of what he owned in clothing to bed, changing every couple of days or so, just so the stench of the sweat and the forge didn't get too overpowering. He sat up from the cot he called a bed.

His father was already up, and had apparently stoked the forge in the last few minutes, since a warm draft issued from underneath the bench (on which sat a heavy chest). His father, a wise man, had crafted a metal duct-type of contraption that ran from an opening underneath the bench, under the ground about 6 inches down, and right up to the forge itself. It ran the distance of the 25 feet between the home and the forge building. The forge was kept going almost constantly in the fall and winter months, and served both to heat the hovel, as well as provide the necessary catalyst for the forge to operate.

They were one of the more fortunate families in town. The Tyrgens had just made a good trade with the Tolias, a Dornish family that had joined their village many moons back, who were excellent foresters. They'd gotten a goodly amount of lumber for the forge. In trade they had made several metal braces, some new picks and small handaxes (since the local Legates did not allow for real axes), and dozens of nails which the family needed for shoring up their home against the Fall's chill - especially before the onset of winter.

His father did not know about the other trade that Kal had made with Elig (the Tolia's secondboy), one which could get him in a LOT of trouble. But Kal had needed some special materials that only the foresters could provide, and he'd needed to keep it secret. So he'd fashioned a good, solid knife for Elig. He didn't ask what it was for, nor did Elig ask what Kal needed the animal hide strips for. Both knew that the other was up to something, but the only conversation about it they had was in the exchanged wry smiles between the two.

Kal was up, and put his boots on. Soon, he was going to have to repair this set - not that they were in bad shape, but that the soles were getting pretty worn.

Just then he heard his father calling from the forge, already at work on the day's labors. Glancing about, he saw that his mother must be out foraging already, because she also wasn't there. Her usual spot was the fields and sparse woodlands just north of town. Maybe she'd find some blueberries today - the season was now starting to end for them. Kal loved the small gems of fruit - they were always so full of flavor - unlike much of anything else in his life.

He grabbed two hard rolls from the box on the table, and washed the first one down with some water. Water. How long had it been since it had rained ...? Kal actually remembered the last time, some 7 or 8 years ago. The lands were drying up, and everyone supposed that it was just another way in which the Legates were using to keep people in line.

On the short trip outside to the forge, he saw Choric talking with another townsperson. Pausing momentarily, he recognized Elig, who was standing below Choric (who was on the wall). Uh oh ..., he thought. I'd better get over there and start my shift. He had paused too long, however, and suddenly a stream of invective came from the adjacent forge-building, all of it directed at him. When his father wanted something, he wanted it right then.

Nearly tripping as he hurried into the forge, he apologized to his father, and handed him the other roll and waterskin. "Da, I've got to go ... my turn at the watch."

"Don't you be late gettin' back, Kal. There's much to be done." Burn looked about, and then said with an almost palpable fear, "... and don' you be thinkin' that I don' know what you've been up to the last few days, neither. You keep whatever't'is yer makin' well-hidden, son. I'll not have ye endangerin' yer family." His father had been away for a day here and there in the last week, helping the Tolias haul the wood to the smithy. In that time, Kal had been doing something which, even to this moment, scared him greatly.

Kal blanched ... his father knew! "Da ... I would never ... I mean ... I ..." His father made 'shushing' motions with his hands, patting the air between them. Kal straightened after a moment. "Da, you know I'd never do anything to allow harm to come to you and Ma." Another pause. "And yes, they're well-hidden ... not even in town."

His father looked at him sternly - then his features softened a little. He spoke very quietly to his son. "Ye just be mindful of what ye'r doin', son. A man will get gutted for such things. I don't know what fool' notion has gotten into your head, but you'd best get it out. Our forebears of old might have had the wherewithal to stand against the Shadow, but these are different times, and we're not on the winning side. You keep your wits about yourself, and don' be wastin' no more of my metal. You hear?"

His father, at some point in the mini-lecture, had placed his hand upon Kal's shoulder. Kal drew strength from that small token of affection. He looked his father in the eyes, and nodded once, curtly. He hurried out of the forge, then, and made for the barracks. There wasn't the time to think about his secret any more for the time being. Once inside, he donned his orange tunic and hoisted his mace. He headed out to report to Choric.

Approaching the two in the early morning chill, Kal spoke his greetings. "Ho and well-met, friends." He also gave a salute to Choric. "Reporting for duty, SIR." He placed the emphasis on that last part more out of jest and flair than any form of disrespect. Choric may have been his lieutenant, but he was also sometimes a good friend - or, at least, an ear when Kal needed one.

OOC: Ashrem - check your PM's at Against the Shadow. I cannot PM you here.

 

[Guest 11456]

Hearing some one speak to him, Choric turns to Elig and shakes his head. "Nothing to report.... I mean there is nothing out of the ordinary." Choric looks the dorn over. "Headed out for the day? It seems colder then it should be though. I cannot quite put my finger on it." He pauses for a moment. "Sorry. I almost thought I felt something. It is probably just my empty stomach."

As Kal came up and greeted him, Choric rolled his eyes at the salute. "Good! Nothing to repor...." There it was again a strange feeling. He glances back over the wall and then back at Kal and Elig. Half not believing it himself he asks, "Do you feel that? A kind of dread or something like that?"

OOG: Trying to RP the beginnings of my detect evil heroic path ability.

 

[Shadowfane]

Tamari had been walking again last night, eventually sleep had overcome her in the arid fields her family worked in vain, and she had lain down to sleep amongst the weak stemmed crops with her wolf-fur cloak to keep her warm.

Trying to work the stiffness out of her muscles, she was half-heartedly rooting out the pernicious weeds that seemed to thrive here despite the lack of rain when she heard a raven caw someplace close by. A shiver of fear ran down her spine, a foreshadowing of some malign event. Gazing up the Old North Road, Tamari pulled her cloak tightly about her to keep out a chill that wasn’t wholly the result of the weather.

“Morning Tamari, up early again!” Tamari, startled, turned to see Kal’s mother approaching. She smiled wistfully at the older woman, “Good morning, to you Dalla. How are Kal and Burn?”

Tamari only half heard the reply from the other woman, distracted by the sense of foreboding coming from the Old North Road, she turned her head and squinted in the grey light, but could see nothing. Realising she was being rude, she turned to Dalla blushing “I’m sorry Dalla, what did you say”. Dalla merely laughed, a seemingly discordant sound under the circumstances, “never mind dear, you youngsters always have your head in the clouds. Keep well Tamari and remember me to your mother.” With that Dalla continued towards the woods in search of blueberries. Tamari nodded absentmindedly and went back to staring up the road.

“Tsk, this is foolish”, the sound of her own voice startled her and she laughed nervously. I must go and see how mother is, she thought, no time for mooning about here. With that Tamari picked up her belongings and made her way back to the village where she could see the lone figure of Choric standing atop the palisade wall. Not wanting to speak with anyone else this morning she slipped past him while his gaze was averted; she thought sourly that she seemed more and more invisible of late, and her mind turned to the open plains of the south, her homeland. She would return there one day, and…and what, that was the question.

Sighing despondently Tamari continued towards her home to check on her hidden treasure, a half spear that had belonged to her father; not quite a freerider’s lance, but better than the ridiculous sticks the town guards carried.

 

[Emiricol]

Elig nodded in greeting to Kal, sparing a smile at his exaggerated check-in to Choric.

Choric: "Do you feel that? A kind of dread or something like that?"

Elig shook his head. "No, I felt nothing." He paused a moment, considering carefully how he awoke. "I woke up today with a chill feeling, but put it down to nightmares. Just a... vague? but insistent feeling of some impending doom."

Then Elig smiled and said, "But ye'v been up on that wall for hours, maybe you are asleed and you just don't know it yet!"

He saw Tamari coming in out of the corner of his eye, though she didn't seem to see him. Or them, really. "That one is nice enough, but she's been a mite distant lately. Odd you'd feel that again just as she was coming in. 'Course, yer friend Aerenar has been a bit odd these last several days as well, Kal. I wonder if they're meeting up for something?"

 

[Sir Osis of Liver]

Arenar Tell

Aren roused himself well before dawn and crept out of the house, it had been a couple of weeks sence he had done this, but the erge finally over whelmed him. Moving quickly and quitly through town he made his way into the woods outside of town. Once there he made his way to a small clearing with a old holllow tree stump in the middle. Hidden inside that stump was a sturdy oak club that Aren had spent several weeks preparing. Raised on tales of heros of old he just couldn't keep himself from endulging certain dreams himself. Because of that he had started this morning ritual. Aren retrieved the club and gave it a couple test swings with his right arm before switching it to the left, and pulling the dagger from his boot with the right. Then sowly at first he began to work with the weapons whipping them about his body in a rudimenty patern. He was a far cry from a professional soilder, but his movements had grace, and he was a nateral with both hands. After a few seconds of working the patern he closed his eyes and began to relax, moving nothing but his arms. Slowly picking up speed as his mind drifted. He had beeen at this for a few weeks now, but it seemed longer. Even after his break he could already go through the combat forms he devised effortlessly, it had almost become a form of meditation for him. After about fifteen minutes he finally opened his eyes and lets arms drop to his sides. Then sat down on the growned and put aside his weapons, in order to briefly scratch the cresent shaped birthmark on his left palm. It always seemed to do that after his excercise. After a short rest Aren practiced some tumbling an dodging techniques all the great heros seemed to use in combat, then placed his club back in it's hiding place.

The trek back to town was always the worst, the sweat on his body seeming to intensify the cold. To Aren it was worth it though. His grandfathers eyes always lit up when he told his stories, Aren had hoped one day the stories would be about him. After the run in with the orcs he wasn't so sure of that dream. I think that would make granpa very happy, but i'm just a normal kid. If i tried anything i'd just end up dead. Aren thought to himself. I don't know what i was thinking coming back out here...so stupid. Well i guess i better keep this to myself, i don't want to upset Kal, and things have been bad for Tamari. Last thing she needs is to be worring about me being a damn fool. Picking up his pace Aren huried back to the safty of town.

 

[Tokiwong]

Ilsha Vonev

Ilsha busied herself in the early morning, tending to some herbs, and mushrooms, grown near her uncle's shed, he cared for them deeply, and Ilsha took pride, making sure that the fragile little things were well taken care of. She busied herself, and did not much pay mind to the fact that the world, was falling apart, for all there was in this world, this little joy was enough for her...

OOC: Taking Magecraft as my first Feat, still thinking about skills, but I will get that later, my book is not herte, I spellcraft is a class skill now right?