[The Mythar Resistance] On The Trail

The Rolling Man said:
Addressing Uiim, she says. "Since we haven't found much yet, I'll try to reach out at the two sites and learn what I can. But, like I said before, this will take a great deal of time. I'll be vulnerable during this, perhaps Osric or Kromgron could watch over me."

Uiim nods and looks to Kromgron. "Can you look after her, please sir?"
 

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Nassitch, Tau and Kimble return from the shack of Cantus and Nassitch goes to Uiim, interrupting his writing but the news is well worth the interruption.

Uiim:
You can read the spoilered post #155

As the members of the troupe shape up the carriages and dismantle the stage, placing it in the supply wagon, Olivia makes her way to the scene of the dead Huom and sits entering into a quiet contemplative state. Kromgron watches over her, playing with the cat in the meantime. Most things are quiet except for the bustle the troupe is making. Layonarai rests under a blanket in one of the carriages, a cup of warm water in her hands to soothe her shaken soul.

In an uncommonly less than amiable mood, Log-a-log makes his way towards one of the carriages and disappears around behind it. Apparently Uiim's berating left an impression upon the halfling.

Log-a-log:
You disappear into the woods for a time, although you feel at the very least mildly irritated at Uiim's reaction, you can imagine in future circumstances that it may be best to at least let the worrisome gnome what you are up to. He really does mean well.

Olivia:
As you concentrate the constant darkness which surrounds you slowly falls away, a shadowy light flickers into being.

You can make out the Huom, he is carrying something in a wrapped bundle, he enters the house. A moment behind him is a slightly frail looking human, his skin is reddened as if heavily sunburnt. He opens the door and disappears inside, with a flash of fire, the windows are shattered and out stumbles the Huom, charred but still alive. In the doorway stands the human, his once dark eyes flare with a reddish malevolence. The human approaches the Huom who attempts to clamber away, but makes it no more than a mere foot or two before the hand of the human rests upon the Mythar's shoulder. Dark tendrils of energy course down the humans arm, they look, hungry. The Huom's face twists and yet no scream comes from the poor creature, you would never thought you could feel pity for the Mythar but whatever is happening is far more dreadful than anything you could imagine. The Huom's shaking and twisting grows slight but the tendrils keep the Huom from collapsing completely, and the humans veins bulge with an unnatural strength. The human releases his grasp and the corpse drops limp to the earth, the human then walks away from the corpse and the house which is now engulfed in fire. The primary emotion you draw from this is such an intermixing of fear and rage that it chills you.
 

*Kromgron accepts his responsibility with a solemn nod, though his image as a stoic dwarf is shattered again when he amiably allows the cat to use his beard as a cat toy. While he watches Olivia, he also keeps glancing over at Layonarai, as if to make sure she's all right.*
 

Uiim's face crumbles when he hears the description of what occured in the house. The old gnome thanks the kobold and adds these details into the note which he is composing...
 

"Fear ... rage ... nooo!" Olivia shakes her head, snapping out of her vision. With some difficulty, she stands up. She can't seem to control the shaking that is affecting her entire body. She isn't cold but what she saw is just chilling her. Taking support on her staff, she starts walking in the direction Nassitch and Tau came back. After a few steps, she turns back to Kromgron. "You're coming, my good dwarf? I hate to admit it but I still need your help. I'm not done, I need to see into the past of Cantus' house too. Your support and protection will be most welcomed."

If Kromgron leads her to the second murder site, she'll once again sit down and concentrate on past events, seeking the psychic impressions left behind by strong emotions. Perhaps, this time, she will be able to see more events then just the murder.

DM:
Power used: Sensitivity to Psychic Impression, PP used: 3, PP left: 26. Olivia continues her concentration after seeing the murder (if she sees it) in order to see more emotional events. I'm hoping she can get some information on Cantus and his mother this way.
Also, the human Olivia saw in her vision, was he a young man?
 


DM:
alright I know it just seems that log is more of a loner than anyother thing. I think that he just needed to cool of then he would head back with a grin on his face back to the way he was
 

Uiim flinches when he hears Olivia's scream. He murmurs a prayer to whatever gods might be listening and then returns to his work, hoping that this ordeal will be over for her soon...
 

Nassitch (Kobold)

Uiim said:
Uiim flinches when he hears Olivia's scream.

Nassitch, near Uiim, reflexively reached a hand back to get an arrow, his eyes darting left and right for the source of the danger. Not sensing anything nearby only made it more troubling for the young kobold.

Nassitch looked down to Kimble for assurance. Kimble, on seeing the look, rubbed Nassitch's hand with his head . . . until Nassitch scratched behind Kimble's ear.
 

While Olivia and Kromgron are busy, Uiim looks up from the notets that he has been writing and speaks to those nearby. The manner in which he speaks is off-handed, almost as if he is thinking to himself out loud.

"Should it start here? Are we robbing these folk of that which they deserve? Think of it - there'll likely never be a better chance for them to be free of their shackles, even if it is for a short time... Staying here, realistically speaking, is little more than awaiting a death sentence, isn't it? I mean, even with the best we can do, we can only buy them a bit of time and a measure of clemency..."

Uiim looks up from his note, where his eyes have been rivted during this entire solliquy. He looks to those nearest and dearest to him and asks again. "Should it start here? Should this be the beginning of the resistance of which we of't whispered, plotted and planned?"

There is no doubt that these last questions are anything but retorhical.
 

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