Zion: Light of the New Moon Part 2, Ch 1.3 Myrh
Zion - Light of the New Moon, Part 2 Chapter 1.3
Myrh Free Will
Most of the group will be following Ryan Farstrider as he heads the investigation of Stonebrook. It appears, however that Kell and Beo will split off and do their own investigations of the outskirts of town and the park respectively. At this point, the party's Event Arc modifiers are ++ Luck, +++ Delay, and + Danger, but this is still subject to change based on future decisions.
"Meet back here in two hours." Yearl noted, clasping wrists with Kell. The sheer size of Stonebrook meant that there was no way the group would be able to cover enough ground by sticking together, thus there was no option but to split up. It only made sense that Kell would elect to strike off on his own since nobody doubted his ability to avoid trouble, but when Beo proposed to do the same there was a good about of objection.
"You may be good with magic, Beo, but that won't help if you get swarmed by a tribe of Orgs." Yearl explained.
"Look around, Captain." the husky countered, "Do you see any Orgs here? This is a town, not the Wild Lands."
"And what if the townsfolk turn out to be unfriendly?" Thera offered, "..assuming we find any." she added after a pause.
"I'll be careful." the magus noted, then glanced to Yearl, "Two hours... here. Got it." he stated before the lion could speak up again, and he showed himself off down the street.
"I would feel better if he weren't on his own." Jerard noted, growling the words out through the muzzle of his Moon Blessed form.
"I would feel better with some food in my stomach." Artemisia offered.
"You could have gone with." Anya noted flatly, and walked past Jerard, stepping around his large, furry bulk. She paused, half-way across the road, and looked back to the group, "Brother Farstrider? I believe you have the most experience here." and she motioned him forward.
"The city seems so different." the wolf acknowledged, moving up to join her.
"Has anyone else noticed the lanterns?" Therea spoke up suddenly, motioning to the large metal poles with lit lamps atop them.
"Yes." Anya acknowledged, adding "They provide light."
"Not that." the mouse put her paws on her hips, "I mean how not all of them were lit when we came in, and now they all are." she pointed to the one nearest the bed and breakfast, "That one, for example... it was NOT on when we arrived."
"I hear that the Moonstone Lights of Zion don't start glowing until the sun goes down." Brother Farstrider offered.
"But those aren't Moonstone." Thera offered, "They're flames."
"Fake flame, like the torch outside of town," Jerard added, "it's an illusion."
"Illusion or not, it still gives off light." Anya added, "We're wasting time." and, with that, she turned toward Ryan, "Where first?"
"The watchtower." Yearl interjected, pointing to the large stone building rising up above the town's roof line, "We can get a better view of the streets from there... maybe see if we can locate some of the townsfolk."
"That sounds like a good idea." Brother Farstrider acknowledged, "It's on the way to the street market-- I passed by it a few times when I was here before." the priest glanced down the streets then motioned to the left, "This way." and, with that, he headed northward along the street. The group followed him up the street one block, then took a right, heading down a long stetch of road... until Artemisia came to a stop.
"What is it now?" Anya questioned the dragoness.
"The farm house." Artemisia motioned to a large wooden structure.
"Yes... it looks like a farm house." the priestess noted in a bored tone.
"I've never seen a farm so close to a populated center." the dragoness explained.
"A wizard's influence only extends so far." Jerard noted, stepping up beside her, "This is the northernmost part of town and Valeraz's tower is on the southern side."
"It would have made more sense to build the tower at the center of town, wouldn't it?" questioned Thera.
"Maybe... maybe not." Jerard answered cryptically, and continued onward as Brother Farstrider proceeded down the street.
The party next halted outside of the guard tower, staring at the featureless metal doors barring their path. There were no handles, no knobs, and no apparent way to open them. "Artemisia." Priestss Fanewatcher noted, "If you would please?" she motioned to the door.
"No need." Jerard interjected, eyes glowing a faint bluish-green. He motioned to the stone wall, "The doors are magically sealed. You can open them with a touch." the magus moved around the jackal and pressed his paw to the wall; the door opened immediately and without a sound.
The inside of the watch tower was furnished with a single small table adorned with an unlit candle, two chairs, and a set of four torches; unlike the candle, the torches were lit. Without even pausing, Jerard went to a torch and picked it up by its lit end, "Illusion, see?" and he turned it around and held it correctly so his paw wouldn't mute the light.
"Quaint." noted Anya, and she picked one up as well then turned to Yearl, "Captain?" she motioned to the stone stairway. The lion picked up a torch as well and ascended the stairs, leading the group up five floors to the top. Stepping onto the highest level of the watchtower, the party spread out, gazing across the city.
"The sky is so beautiful tonight." Brother Farstrider mentioned, gazing upward toward the moon, "I remember enjoying this sight last time too."
"You've been up here before?" Yearl questioned, glancing to the wolf, "You didn't mention coming up... just that you've been by it."
"Oh..." Ryan paused, "I... guess I--"
"You've been ensorceled...." Jerard suddenly accused, turning to regard the priest, his eyes glowing blue-green again.
"What?" the wolf asked, taken aback, "No I haven't..." he paused, "What do you mean ensorceled?"
"It's similar to Fey glamor." the magus noted, moving over to him, "Less insidious, but it can really mess with your head."
"I'm not ensorceled." Ryan objected again.
"How many servings of food did you have for dinner during your first visit?" Jerard asked.
"Two." Ryan answered without hesitation, "The most wonderful steak I'd ever had with garlic and leek potatoes, and then they also provided fried perch in a cream sauce. They gave us three different wines-- two reds and a white, and a mug of amber ale."
"And what did you have last night?" Jerard demanded.
"I...." the priest paused as he considered the question, "campfire stew..." he noted and, after a moment, added, "And water... that's it. Why?"
"I also made travel rolls." Thera added.
"And travel rolls." Ryan acknowledged.
"What color linens did you have on your bed during your first visit?" Jerard asked critically.
"The blanket was deep green, with golden thread work." Ryan answered, "The pillow cases were earth tone and the sheets an almost olive-color." he explained without hesitation, "I remember wondering at the odd colors, but the bed was one of the most comfortable I ever--"
"What color is your bedroll?" Jerard asked.
Ryan shrugged, "It's... sort-of-gray. Why are you asking all these--"
"Interesting how you can remember the smallest details about your trip here from years ago better than what's been going on recently." Jerard stated, "It means you're ensorceled."
"I'm in control of myself, Jerard... I haven't been glamored." the priest objected.
"Being ensorceled doesn't mean you're hypnotized." Jerard pointed out, "it just means you've been... tampered with."
"Is he a threat to us then?" Priestes Fanewatcher interjected.
"He's not being controlled." Jerard explained to her, "He's fine."
"Then it's not of any concern." Anya stated, "Now focus-- We are here for a purpose." and she walked to the crenelations at the edge of the tower's top, peering out over the rooftops, "It IS quiet..."
"Not a single person on the streets." Jerard stated. He gazed off in the distance toward the glowing tower at the other side of town, "What's going on here?" he asked of nobody in particular.
"So do you think the Wizard is controlling the torches from his tower?" Thera asked, leaning against the stone next to Jerard.
"It's possible." the albino wolf answered, "I assume he could just look out over the city from the top of his tower and turn the lamps on... it wouldn't be hard."
"Assuming he were alive." Artemisia murmured under her breath. She made her way the crenelated wall and peered out over the city, but paused when she encountered a ceramic figurine seated atop one of the stone blocks, "Hmph." she scowled, "Toys."
"Just like the ones at the inn." Thera smiled, picking up one near her.
"At the inn?" Yearl asked her, kneeling down to pick up another from off of the floor.
"Yea." the mouse answered, with a smile, turnig the one she held around in her paw, "They had figurines like this too."
"Guards should not be distracted by toys." Artemisia noted flatly, and flicked the figurine nearest her off of the tower.
"Artemisia... that is SO rude!" Thera objected, "Someone worked very hard on--" but she didn't finish her sentence; the comment was interrupted by a very audible thump.
Everyone moved quickly to gaze down at the street. There was no broken figurine, rather, the body of a guard was laying on the cobblestones, crumpled and broken, surrounded by a spread of blood. Artemisia blinked, "This is... displeasing."
"This is displeasing." Kell said to himself, standing on the outskirts of town within the dilapidated graveyard. Despite the small size of the burial site the fact that it was horribly overgrown made it difficult to find what he sought When he did find it, however, he was far from pleased. The life-sized statue the assassin faced was a very good likeness of Valeraz, but, then again, Kell never was much of an art critic; what bothered him was the engraving on the stone.
"In memory of Magus Valeraz, Wizard of Stonebrook." the leopard-wolf scowled, glancing around at the other statues and headstones; every last one of them included the words "Here lies buried". The difference meant only one thing. "They were too scared to go into his tower to collect the corpse." the assassin chuckled darkly to himself.
Glancing to the enormous structure further to the south, Kell walked away from the graveyard, his paw absently stroking the section of his neck where the fur had never grown back. Valeraz was one of the most powerful wizards the assassin ever had the honor to have as a target. Kell had approached him with utmost care... which was probably the only reason the leopard-wolf was able to get out of the tower alive.
It was obvious to him that the townsfolk knew their beloved wizard had died; the blasts from the human would have been impossible to have missed. The assassin had managed to get into the tower, bypass the magus' magical defenses, and encounter him at the very top. Kell shuddered involuntarily; the poison acted quickly, but Valeraz was powerful and the encounter hadn't left the assassin unscathed.
The alchemical venom functioned in three parts, and the first, paralysis, had an onset time of less than thirty seconds. Between when the assassin cut the wizard and when Valeraz finally fell, Kell had to fight for every second, dodging, weaving, and sidestepping blast, explosion, crackling jolts of electricity, and searing rays. He realized he must have been the picture of a soul escaped from the Eternal Flame when he emerged from the tower; the townsfolk gathered at the foot of the stairs fled before him the moment he emerged.
As Kell walked through the quickly abandoning streets, he was able to gauge the poison's progression by what happened with the magical effects surrounding the town. Just as the assassin had reached the park the comforting sense of magical defense failed, leaving the feeling of a completely unprotecred town; Valeraz had fallen into unconsciousness. From there, it was only another few breaths until the final stage took hold, and every last magical lamp in the town went dark; Valeraz had died.
Sitting on the small hill overlooking the town, Kell scowled to himself; the town's lights were glowing-- several years after Valeraz was killed and the lights were no longer dark. Any less-experienced, less-centered assassin would have felt fear at that moment, letting the obvious questions foat through their head. "What if he didn't die?" Kell voiced the first, chuckling to himself, "What if he survived?" he spoke another, grinning beneath his cowl, "Did I fail?" the assassin stood.
"No... he died." Kell noted to the wind. He hadn't failed; if Valeraz were still alive then the town would still be protected... there would be people on the street... the wizard would have come seeking vengeance and, as far as Kell knew, the employer who had hired him to end the wizard was still alive and healthy. There was an answer to every question, and all the assassin needed to do was to figure out what that question was.
"The town is empty." he spoke, slinking silently closer to its lit streets, "Abandoned?" he pondered, "And Brother Farstrider..." he contemplated, "He couldn't have truly seen what he thought he saw." Kell was familiar with the charms and enchantments that caused someone to be ensorceled and there was no doubt that the wolf was indeed ensorceled, but that just pointed to a new issue: Valeraz was not an enchanter... so who else had the paws meddling in Stonebrook? If someone else WAS involved, just how much attention did they pay to visitors? The assassin suddenly got a very bad feeling.
Spinning around, the Kell's punching daggers were out in an instant... just in time to intercept a rusted, pitted blade. The skeletal attacker pressed the offense, swinging its weapon in wide swaths, forcing Kell to backpedal, narrowly avoiding the attacks. One more step and the leopard-wolf was teetering on the edge of the overlook, a thirty-foot drop awaiting him. He didn't spare a look at the fall since he had more pressing matters; the skeleton came at him again.
The undead creature lunged forward, its unthinking mind still shrewd enough to know that forcing him into a fall would lame him, but it lacked imagination... and Kell did not. Pivoting on his right foot, the assassin pushed forward along the side of the skeleton's attack, the blade narrowly missing him as he lowered his shoulder, colliding with his attacker. The magic holding the skeleton together made the impact feel like he was trying to bust through a stone wall, but Kell wasn't interested in trying to force it apart... he was more interested in it going forward.
With a quick shift of his center of gravity, the assassin lashed out and grabbed hold of the skeleton's arm bone, and gave it a quick yank. He pivoted, forcing his thigh against the animated bones and spin around to its back. Giving the skeleton a quick shove, Kell stepped backwards as the undead swordsman stumbled right off the incline. More than a little concerned, the leopard-wolf faced off against two more skeletons; their swords were at the ready. His newest attackers slowly spread out, moving to either side of him in a proper flanking position, "These aren't Corpses..." he murmured, and slowly put away his punching daggers, "Goddess... this is not good."
The skeletons charged him at the same time, forcing the assassin's attention into a split, but he wasn't inclined to stand there and choose between which side to have impaled. Leaping up and forward, Kell grabbed hold of an overhead branch. He used his upward momentum to take himself over the perch, and followed through by swinging in a complete circle, coming down with his feet leading the way. He felt the solid impact of his boots colliding into the skulls of the skeletons, sending them both stumbling over the drop after the first of their number.
Landing on the ground, the assassin took a single, steadying breath, and went to the edge. He glanced down toward what he hoped would be the broken bones of his attackers... but was surprised. Instead of the disassembled piles of bones, Kell saw three distinct piles of powder and a faint glow of magic slowly disappating from them. While the destruction of the skeletons should have made Kell smile, it actually did the exact opposite. By by falling over the cliff, the skeletons had entered into the town and that could only mean one thing: there was some kind of protection on Stonebrook after all. Kell decided it was time to get back to the bed and breakfast... fast.
It was not always easy for Beo to spend a lot of time around others and he found his fellow travelers to be no exception. While the husky had a certain affinity for Jerard he couldn't help but realize that, at any given time, one or the other of them would probably be angry about something. Very few people held Beo's attention long enough to try and make it past that stage, but the black-furred magus was decidedly interested.
Beo casually strolled down the boulevard, tracing a faint, glowing line of symbols in midair as he went. "Sahr'kris." he pronounced the word he drew, causing the windows nearest him to strum with the innate power of the syllables. He spoke the tongue of ancient dragons... the tongue of magic. Most of the learned wizards knew of the language as the Arcane Tongue, but those with magic in their blood like the husky knew a deeper truth: it was the tongue of life.
The magus had met very few book-learned wizards in his life that he considered worthy of the gift of magic. Jerard might have been just another one of the dust-covered, desk-dwelling know-nothings, but two things made him stick out with an almost surreal difference: he had the creative spark of a natural caster, and, Beo shuddered as he thought about it, he had a very sexy Moon Blessed. Moments after the thought struck him, the dog scowled; the magic studiers could never possibly appreciate the importance of such base emotions... drives... urges. They shoved their own bodies aside to focus on their minds-- it's what would keep them from really understanding.
"Koah Dum Rhen'val." the magus intoned, the symbols he scribed in the air changing as he spoke, creating a powerful surge in the cobblestones at his feet, making them vibrate with the power. The Ancient Tongue meant so much more than the scholars thought; it was the bridge between physical and spiritual... between life and death... between the world everyone knew, and--"
"Who calls?" the words came in imperial common, something Beo considered a not entirely unexpected turn of events.
"Beo." the husky answered, mindful not to provide his full name-- he never gave his full name to a spirit.
"We are Stonebrook." the words spoke, seemingly from everywhere all at once.
"I know who you are." he answered, turning left to follow the main street of the town toward the park.
"Why do you call to us?" the voices spoke, and Beo felt the sensation of being watched... also not entirely unexpected.
"My companions want answers..." the magus noted officially and, as his tail began to pick up speed, his voice lost some of its formality, "And I'm kinda curious too."
"You are mage blood." the voices spoke, and Beo felt them pull back slightly.
"Yea." he acknowledged, making no attempt to hide it, "I bet you're used to old guys with staffs, aren't you?"
"The Protector has fallen." Stonebrook said to him, the voices growing stronger as he stepped into the park. Although nobody else in the party seemed to understand the significance of the green space in the middle of the Wayside, but Beo did.
"The Protector?" Beo questioned, "What Protector?"
"The Wizard of Stonebrook." the words filtered up from the earth beneath his feet, and the husky slowly took a seat.
"Tell me about this Wizard." Beo requested.
"The Wizard of Stonebrook protected the people who dwelled within the buildings and on the streets." the voices spoke, "We are not whole without the life they bring to us."
"What happened to the people when the Protector fell?" the husky asked.
"Many fled." the voices answered, "Most are still here."
"Still here?" Beo inquired. The way of spirits was never as indirect as most people thought, and Beo knew that many people who heard the statement would expect it to be some kind of riddle or half-truth, but the husky took it at face value. "Why can't we see them?"
"You can." Stonebrook answered.
"Where are they?" he asked.
"All around you." the voices replied.
"Are there named ones among you?" the husky questioned. He waited for a response, but none came, which meant that he had his answer. Spirits of places chose the name of the location they inhabited but, in the rare instance when a soul was stripped from its body it would sometimes be absorbed by the site of the event, "There are..." he whispered the answer to his own question.
A male voice spoke out above the rest of them, specific, distinct, and full of a vitality the chorus of spirits lacked, "Help us... please..."
"You... I hear you." Beo's ears perked, "What's your name?"
"It's.... Daniel." the voice answered.
"Do you have a clan name, Daniel?" Beo asked, ears swiveling as he attempted to hone in on the direction from which the voice came-- not an easy feat when it sounded to come from everywhere.
"Yes..." the voice sounded strain, the husky knew that speaking above the rest was draining it rapidly of energy, "It is--" but Beo didn't bother listening to the rest, having identified the basic location of the voice's essence.
"I call to you." Beo ordered, and, as he let the mana flow, a faint, ghostly form appeared near the water.
"What-- what are you doing?" Daniel demanded, the ghostly visage of a middle-aged human was stricken with fear and confusion, looking down at his translucent body.
"Hoping to speak with you eye-to-eye." the husky answered, a faint grin splitting his muzzle.
"You're a magus..." the spirit spoke.
"Yea." Beo confirmed.
"You can help us?" Daniel's ghost asked.
"I might." the husky shrugged, "But I need to know what's going on."
"The Wizard protecting Stonebrook was murdered." Daniel explained.
"The Protector has fallen," Beo nodded in a bored manner, "I already heard-- that's old news, Danny."
"The Wizard was everything to this town." the ghost explained.
"Not everything." the husky countered, brushing a paw across the ground, "There are some powerful ley lines here."
"I... don't understand." Daniel noted.
"The ley lines... conduits of powerful mana." Beo explained, "That's why the lamp lights continue to work... and why there's still protection around the town."
"The town is not protected, magus... it is open to the Wild Lands..." the ghost spoke.
"No... only the unenlightened would believe that." and the husky slowly stood, "If this place really were open to the full power of the Wild Lands then there wouldn't be a single building still standing in the whole place." he glanced to Daniel, "What else aren't you telling me?"
"I am asking for help..." the ghost spoke, "I-"
"Voes." Beo spoke the ancient word as a command. He knew it as surely as he knew his heart beat-- it was the first word his mother had taught him: truth.
"We are all here." Daniel admitted, "Everyone who stayed in town."
"Why?" Beo asked.
"Because we are still tied to our bodies." Daniel answered immediately, though, from the expression on his face it looked as though the words hurt him to say.
"Why are you being so unhelpful?" the husky asked casually.
"I... we... all of us are... compelled." the ghost answered, having to rephrase himself several times.
"By what force?" Beo questioned.
"Valeraz... the Wizard of Stonebrook."
"Well isn't that something..." Beo chuckled and made a single motion with a paw; the ghostly image of Daniel was dismissed immediately. The magus about-faced and headed out of the park.
"Help us, Beo." Stonebrook said to him in its parting plea, the soft hum of the otherworldly presence falling silent as it returned to inactivity.
"We'll see..." the husky answered, "I'm not sure if it's within my power, but I suppose we'll find out soon enough." his tail wagged as he made his way back to the bed and breakfast; he loved having juicy tidbits of information to share because Beo found that it made spending time with others that much more... interesting.
* * * * * *
A lot of information was gathered during the last post relating to what might be going on. In a rather interesting twist of fate, there are three options for this week's vote, but one of them is very, very indepth. Here are the choices for the Myrhean Contributing Readers:
1) Supplies aren't worth this... Get the heck out. (-Delay, - Luck) 2) This place isn't safe... get what you can and ge tout. (-Delay, + Danger) 3) There's more to this place than meets the eye... we'd better <insert plan>,
As you can see, the third option is VERY open-ended. Readers may now spend their entire week suggesting just what the party should do. This is YOUR chance to REALLY provide some insight into the direction the party should take.
There are two rules to consider: First, while anyone can provide suggestions,the only actual VOTES are from the Contributing Readers from Myrh. Second, the final decision must be phrased in a single sentence without a conjunction or qualifiers. "Go to the Wizard's tower." is an option while "Head to the park with weapons drawn unless we see any undead in town in which case we'll just get to the exit as fast as we can." is decidedly not. If option 3 is chosen, it's up to the characters to carry out the plan or abort if necessary.
This group has until midnight on Friday, November 18th to have their final votes in (yes-- that's 1 day more than the rest of the groups have; use it wel).