Warriors Of The Coast

[jkason]

Brother Donovan, human cleric

"Chasing shadows, most likely." Khalia said. "Elder Nevillom believes there are signs of a new incursion of Lyncanthropes, and has gathered the Templars to destroy them. And if one has a suitably liberal interpretation of lines of authority, one can argue that since the Archivists Order is part of the Templars, his call would include an Archivist who happens to be in Q'Barra on extended assignment, no matter whose daughter she is. That there is something unusual nearby, I have no doubt -- I have seen the reports -- but I doubt very much that we will find what the Elder expects. This is a task better suited to five or ten than an army, I think."

As he finishes wrapping the ankle, Donovan merely smiles and nods to Jina's thanks. Then he looks up to Khalia.

"We've tried to dissuade him," the cleric says with a shrug, keeping his voice low so that (hopefully) only Khalia and Jina can hear. "At this point, I just hope enough of the subcommanders agree with us that we can reign things in when the time comes..."

 

[DEFCON 1]

Cerril Maise, Aerndel Barrne, and the others of the scouting party all return with Jakk, Rogan, and Skarghash and the other Guardians to the Daggerspell camp. There they spend Wednesday getting to know one another... and for the Flamists... getting to know what it is the Guardians are doing out here.

Zendarrill Loren... the Valendar trainer and outdoorsman... has been travelling all across southeastern Khorvaire for decades it seems. Starting his questing in the midst of the Last War... he's moved from place to place... tomb to tomb... ruin to ruin... gathering information and data. What this data was for, he's never really said... but the Daggerspell Mages make it clear what that data is... dragonmarks.

It comes as quite a surprise when the eight Daggerspell Mages and the six Daggerspell Shapers all pull back various bits of clothing or armor and show off what they have underneath...

All of them have the bluish patterns on their bodies known as dragonmarks. Some True... some not. But all of them have them. And as Rogan sits there hearing the stories being told, he finally realizes why he's always stayed within Newthrone as a member of the Daggerspell Guardians and not gone out with Lorren on his quests all these years. It wasn't because he prefered the city. It wasn't that it was his own personal choice. It was because he wasn't Marked. He wasn't invited.

***

Around mid-day, the Valenar elf returns to the camp, followed by the hexblade Ari Osten. The look on Osten's face tells everyone sitting around that something is weighing upon his mind. The fourteen Mages and Shapers glancing knowingly at each other... they've seen that look before amongst themselves... but the other Guardians and the Flamists are unaware just what it is that has Osten looking a bit taken aback. Ari says nothing... and now that Lorren has returned the conversation moves into what actions will be required when the crusade arrives the next day.

Obviously... the Daggerspell Shapers can't go out in their wildshape forms because that would just feed the fire. So instead, other ideas are bandied about. How best to diffuse the situation? Calm the raging tide of Elder Nevillom? Because with the thirty-plus Guardians here, the dozen Templars of the scouting party, and the fifty or more Crusaders on their way... this whole area is going to become real crowded, real soon.

And throughout the rest of Wednesday and into Thursday morning... the talk and the planning continues.

***

Thursday morning, Aern is asleep, lying on the floor of one of the treehouses that were erected above the camp. The talks were long... with everyone having their say. But Aern knew he'd have perhaps the biggest impact, as he'd have 25 words with which to convince Elder Nevillom that there was no lycanthropic threat when the Elder contacted him in the morning. The changeling thought long and hard at what he would say. And when the familiar *ping* occurs Thursday morning at dawn... his words are carefully planned.

"No lycanthrope threat. Scouts have encountered druids and made good contact. Waiting for you at their camp. Zendarrill Lorren leads them. Repeat - no lycanthrope threat."

***

Elder Nevillom goes purple when he receives the message Thursday morning. This was NOT what he was supposed to hear! They weren't supposed to make contact! They were supposed to just learn and REPORT! No lycanthrope threat?!? How would they know?!? Cerril Maise knows NOTHING!!! THEY'VE BEEN DUPED! ZENDARRILL LORREN LEADS THEM?!? BY ALL THAT IS HOLY WITH THE FLAME, THAT PROVES IT!!!

Unbeknownst to most casual observers... Samuel Nevillom had met Zendarrill Lorren before. Several times in fact. And suffice it to say... the meetings did not go well. Nevillom knew that Lorren was no mere elf. He could sense it with all his being. Something always gnawed away at hm whenever the Valenar passed through Wyrmwatch on his journeys, and to say there was no love lost between them would be an understatement. Something lurked beneath the elf's facade, and the facades of those that travelled with him. Nevillom just never knew what.

Now he knows. Or at least... knows enough to bring him to justice. The Voice has spoken to him. His Crusade is just. Lycanthrope or not... Zendarrill Lorren will be brought before the Flame and Judged. Elder Nevillom has sworn it.

***

And it is for that reason that when he meets with the other leadership of the army... the dwarf, the elf sorcerer, the young female archivist, the three squad leaders... he tells them he's had no contact with the scouts. Because the scouts have been compromised. He can no longer count on them. And he needs to convince those members of the Church with him now of what they need to do.

And with his resolve as solid as ever... Elder Samuel Nevillom leads his crusade northeast... and to their destiny.

 

[stonegod]

But before he can ask any questions, the elf steps forward to him still smiling. "You are not one of my Guardians... you were not selected to help me in my quest... but now that you are here, you must lead them. Aridarastrixsauriv must be found. This I ask of you, Ari Osten, Child of Khyber. This duty... Sur'Kil requests of you." And Ari sees the eyes of Zendarrill Lorren morph... away from their elvish coloring... into something a little more...

...draconic.

Pain Ari Osten was used to. It was part of his job. Any verteran of the Last War who did not know fear and pain as a brother lied. But this... this was something different. It was burning at his soul.

Ari closed his eyes. His left fist was clenched. The sinister one. The one he somehow knew was the source of his power. He had heard tales of madmen with such marks. But Ari had harnessed it. He had become the mark's master. He had told Jango to embrace the mark. And that was true---embrace it to master it. He would not let it master him.

Ari unclenched his first. He embraced the pain, fought to master it. It was probably one of the most excruciating things he had ever done.

It was then the hunter noticed Lorren... change. Ari's eyes went wide, and he took a half step back. But then his stopped himself. He wanted answers? Well, this one was touched by those with all the answers. The dragons themselves.

Carefully, Ari took off his left glove. He held it up for both of them to see. "Why don't we start by explaining what is going on here."

 

[drothgery]

And it is for that reason that when he meets with the other leadership of the army... the dwarf, the elf sorcerer, the young female archivist, the three squad leaders... he tells them he's had no contact with the scouts. Because the scouts have been compromised. He can no longer count on them. And he needs to convince those members of the Church with him now of what they need to do.

And with his resolve as solid as ever... Elder Samuel Nevillom leads his crusade northeast... and to their destiny.

OOC: Does Nevillom tell us that the scouts have been compromised, or just that he's had no contact with them?

 

[DEFCON 1]

OOC: Nevillom tells everyone he's had no contact with the scouting party, and thus he says he suspects they've run into problems / been attacked by the lycanthrope threat. He does not know what Zendarill Lorren is up to, but he believes that even if it's not directly related to a re-emgering lycan threat, it's still something he needs to put a kibosh on. However, if he were to mention this fact to the army he figures it'd be an uphill battle to convince them all to continue.

*****

Jango sprints and sprints and walks and rests and runs and walks and sprints. And it keeps ushering him on.

"We are besieged on all side, Jango. Those who already have invaded the home of our contact... and those behind us who are coming to swarm it even more. We must reach him before any further problems develop. Run, Jango! Run!"

*****

Zendarrill Lorren steps forward and takes Ari Osten's ungloved left hand... looking at it, inspecting it, tracing the lines of the dragonmark that even now seems to be moving, changing and growing. The "elf's" touch is cool in contrast to the burning and itching of the mark itself, and Ari stands fascinated at this man's concentration in observing it.

"Why don't we start by explaining what is going on here."

He looks back up into Ari's eyes and responds. "I have been searching and researching the marks of dragons since before you were born. Because they hold within them knowledge. Information. A history of what has happened, and a prophecy of things to come. And it is this past, present, and future that we strive to protect... from those who have run roughshod over this land in eons past. My research all around southwestern Khorvaire has finally led me here... to this place... where the last piece of an important puzzle has been put into place. The realization that Aridarastrixsauriv... the Dragon's Eye... is no mere legend. And that this artifact must be found, or else the dragons themselves will come under sway. And I do not think any of us want to live in a world where the dragons themselves are under the control of another group or being, eh?"

He smiles weakly, lets go of Ari's hand, and then motions back up the stairs. "I have been gathering forces who believe in protecting our land from those that would enslave us all, like the Cultists of the Dragon Below... the Lords of Dust... the Emerald Claw... and now that I have decoded the prophecy within these marks, I can send my students to find the Eye before these dark forces can do the same. And I want you to lead them, Ari. Because you are a Child of Khyber, and your mark is stronger than any of the others we have above. And you have a spirit within you that will not fall. Everything about this is tied to the Marks... and I need people who I can trust to keep their heads and control their power."

He breathes out and nods... staring off into space for a moment or two. "I believe I have found where the Dragon's Eye is... it's location is another temple to the southeast of here in Q'Barra. I am hoping that you and my Guardians will go there to claim it."

And after much more talking about what is at stake, Osten and Lorren return to the camp.

 

[Velmont]

Jango continue to move through the jungle. He easily avoid the roots and jump over large rocks and easily avoid the wild animals that lay on the sides of the trail... if we can call it a trail. He has been following it by instinct, but his unused eyes to such natural setting wouldn't have been able to spot it without him. He stop for a moment, taking back his breath. He takes his water skin and drinks some water.

"We are besieged on all side, Jango. Those who already have invaded the home of our contact... and those behind us who are coming to swarm it even more. We must reach him before any further problems develop."

Jango eyes starts to scan the forest, in fear to see anyone watching him. After a moments, the voice conitnue to speak.

"Run, Jango! Run!" Jango doesn't hesitate. He summons the speed of wind into his feet and start to run throught the forest at a speed that no one could follow, except maybe a few animals inhabiting the jungle, but why would animals be following him. If they were near, he just got an advantage on them, and could always repeat it again.

Jango continues his progression, determined to find the answers he is seeking.

 

[DEFCON 1]

At mid-afternoon, Jango arrived outside the Guardian's camp. Although there were members of the organization "on guard", movement throughout the camp was such that they were preparing for something to arrive, not on watch. He circled around the camp out of sight, and arrived on the far side of the large overgrown temple ruins. On this side, nobody from the Guardian's camp would be able to see him, but unfortunately the one known opening into the temple ruins could not be accessed. The elf paused for a while to ponder what should occur, and allow it to commune with the other inside.

***

The Crusade marched north, Elder Nevillom keeping everyone on a very quick and firm pace. Khalia, Horatio, Jina and all the others wondered what would occur when they finally arrived... wondering what they might find. What was the status of the scouting party? What would Nevillom command of the army when they arrived?

The march was long and the participants were worried.

***

Rogan, Aern, Skarghash and the rest were preparing for the army's arrival. The disguised changeling felt comfortable that Elder Nevillom would understand his message, and thus things would take care of themselves. Rogan and Skarg were not too sure.

Ari spoke with the Daggerspell Mages and Shapers, getting their feedback on this quest that Zendarrill Lorren asked of him. The fourteen of them were ready and willing to do whatever Lorren asked of them. They had spent anywhere from two to fifteen years with the man (depending on the person), learning, studying, and believing. He has spoken of The Chamber, and as Guardians, they have put themselves in The Chamber's service.

***

Later Thursday afternoon, the first wave of the crusading army cuts through the jungle, whereupon they are met by numerous members of the Daggerspell Guardians, along with the members of the scouting party. Cerrill Maise and Rogan stand side-by-side, ready to welcome them with open arms.

However... the history books of the Silver Flame will say that Samuel Nevillom either made a grave error, or was touched by the devil... for he ordered his men to attack... taking no prisoners and holding no quarter. Despite the protestations of Horatio Donovan, Tod Elston, Khalia and others... several of the more fanatical members under Elder Nevillom began firing from their crossbow line. And before the commanders could regain control and the hosts could take cover from the barrage...

...three Guardians and Jacoby of the scouting party were shot and killed.

***

Back at camp, the sounds of combat were easily heard. The others had not gone very far to the south to wait for the crusade to arrive, so the sounds of screaming came to them quickly and clearly. The shouts of 'fire!', the grunts of pain, the demands of 'cease-fire' and cries of 'medic'. Ari, Zendarrill, and most if not all of the other Daggerspells in camp rushed to join with those that had fallen. And when they arrived, the situation was in chaos... overlorded by a man who had clearly gone over the edge.

***

Jango had started picking his way through the vines, kudzu, trees, shrubs and greenery that overwhelmed the ruined temple. When he too heard the shouts and cries of the misguided initial attack volley, it told him to hurry forward. Now was their chance. The young elf moved this way and that, over rocks, under branches... until he arrived back on the far side where the camp was. And where he found that the doorway to the stairs heading down was now unguarded. At the urging of his second skin, he slipped inside and ran downstairs.

 

[Velmont]

Jango have waited some time in his hiding place. He pass the flaming words in his mind and felt the shard at his neck. If he was discovered and attacked, his opponent would better make a single perfect shot, or he would be burned alive. But that would be of last resort. He wasn't a killer and anyway, starting a fight would mean having all the camp on his back...

And he was right, but he wasn't the one who started the fight. Who was it? The Flames? Would there hunt of some lycanthrope, as he had overheard some guards, would have lead them to attack the guardians? That sounds more like madness than a crusade... but how many crusade have been no more than that, madness. The flame is too close-minded. The wouln't understand that the mark he wears is only a tool and is as good or evil as the marked one.

But even if a second only had pass as Jango thinks all that, he felt that he was losing time and he needed to urge. He quickly summon an invisible shield to surround him and move foward and jump into the hole, taking the opportunity the confusion of teh fight was offering him. Now he wished that no guard was left under, as he would probably think Jango was among the aggressor and Jango would need to kill him. Jango wasn't a killer, unless he had no other choice, and his magic was very lethal and was his only weapon.

 

[Unkabear]

Could the Flame have been wrong? His message was quite clear. There was no threat here…unless it was one that the Elder was to create himself…could it be…thoughts swarmed through his mind at the possibilities. It was not his to question, but then how could it have gone wrong? Was it that he had assumed? Or…perhaps the Flame. Aern found himself away from the fighting. There was no side that he could fight on and not find himself fighting on the wrong side.

 

[drothgery]

Khalia's mind flashed back again...

The Elder had ordered an attack. "Belay that!" She'd shouted, "Hold fire." But the damage had been done, for crossbow bolts were already in the air. Brother Donovan had had to knock the Elder unconcious before they had been able to reassert control. And though she likely would never admit it, that they had been able to do it at all owed a lot to Tod Ellston. Templars from the noble families of Flamekeep and northern Thrane -- they would follow an ir'Indari's orders even if she were a girl not past twenty. These men -- they did not know her, or her father, and if they had heard once that Tarik ir'Indari had ridden at Tira Miron's side, it had been an obscure point of history. But they did know Tod. And Brother Donovan. And Cerril Maise. It shamed her that she had done less than they, that she had been unable to prevent this disaster.

...

All she had been able to do was heal some of the wounded. And send a scathing recommendation to her father that a new Elder be sent to Q'Barra, as Samuel Nevillom was clearly unfit for any position of responsiblity.