The Twilight of Good IC

[Irish Musician]

And from the darkness drums were beat, horns were blown, and the great undead masses marched.......

It has been twenty years since the War of the Damned was started. Before then, life was good for the continent of Illena. The nations seemed to get along relatively well, and even the "monstrous races" lived in relative harmony with everyone else. There was some conflict here and there, as one might expect, but nothing that a few battles couldn't conclude. Yes, it could be said that the gods were smiling on the lands of Illena, and in turn great prosperity, peace, and happiness was brought to the land. But then the priests started to see signs of something that hadn't happened in a millennia.

Ian rushed as fast as he could down the corridor. Dodging other priests, altar boys, clerics....anything to get him to the Head Priest faster. Ian burst into his chamber and the Head Priest, Domar, spun around. He started to protest, but Ian just showed him the scroll he had been carrying. When Domar read it his face went pale......

You see, the land of Illena used to be full of the wretched masses of undead. From Illena, they spread their filth out across the seas, always attacking the other races and were a plague upon the world. Pelor took it upon himself to call to his followers, anointing one man as his Avatar. Gareth was a Paladin that was the most just, most merciful, and most honorable of all of Pelor's followers. Garth then became Gareth the Avatar and gathered all of Pelor's followers and lauched an assault against the undead of Illena. It took 10 years for Gareth to finally get into the center of the continent where the undead's source was. Nerull, the undead God, had broken through to the material plane and was building his undead army. With the help of Pelor and other of the good gods, Nerull was overthrown and killed with Pelor's own Sun Spear. The Raven Queen took the mantel of goddess of Death. It took many years, but Illena began to heal from the years of undead abuse and eventually became a livable place. Many races came to stake a claim on Illena, and while there were many battles in the beginning now there is relative peace. It has been 1,200 years since Pelor shoved his Sun Spear into Nerull's heart, but now the darkness stirs again.

Harlon stood on the wall, rain pouring down while the sun set in the west. He knew he had to be strong for his men, but he was frightened. As soon as the last rays of the run disappeared behind the treeline, the drums started. Harlon's men started to look around and their faces said they were frightened. Harlon started a speech that all them men could hear, talking about how they should not be frightened for Pelor was on their side and they had something to fight for....their loved ones. Cheers erupted and Harlon thought he had their confidence back, that is, until the undead came streaming out of the wood like locusts. Their leader, a Lich, sending necrotic spells shooting at the walls. Harlon knew the men had never faced anything like this.....and knew that they wouldn't survive the night.......

It started on the northeast coast. Reports of these weird, human-like beings attacking people and people who had died rising again as mindless things. The reports were few and far between, so the Clergy in Anston, the main Temple of Pelor, didn't think much of it. They sent runners to see if the reports were true and when they didn't come back at all, they knew something was wrong. They sent a small contention of men from the standing army, about 150 of them, to see what was actually out there. No one really knows what happened, because the only survivor went about as insane as one had ever seen. The only thing they could get from him was, "They are coming......all of them.....they are coming.....". It was at this moment that the priests started seeing evil visions in their meditations....a great horned beast, a sickly green glowing mace, and a man that looked so languid he shouldn't be alive, yet he was. The church immediately had their scholars research all they could about these signs and visions, but no one knew what they meant.

The cloaked traveler entered the tavern and sat down at a table. It was cold outside, and the snow blew in with him as he entered. One waitress came over to him to get his order, but when she did she saw something. His hand had barely any skin on it, and when he pulled back his hood, it looked as though he hadn't eaten in a year. All he did was smile at her, and with one touch from him she shriveled into a heap of taught skin and bones. He then stood up before any of the patrons knew what was happening and a sickly green burst of enery shot out of him, striking everyone there, save for one man, who ran as fast as he could toward Anston......

More and more reports of the undead came trickling in as the months went on. Anston tried its best to get things under control, but they had grown comfortable in their peace, and had not the reflexes to defend against this growing monster. The undead threat began to grown more and more powerful, until finally a leader showed themselves. There was one that commanded the undead that called himself Doresain. He seemed to be an undead, but he was smart, and powerful. He was imbued with powers that none had seen since Nerull. Armies upon armies from the church of Pelor fell against him, it seemed as though no one would be able to stop him. Then it happened.

In the midst of battle, as the undead and the forces of the Light were battling, Doresain himself came onto the battlefield and entered the fray. It was this point that it seemed as though the undead would win yet another battle, and have even more abominations for its army. A ray of light shot down from the heavens and it was then every follower of Pelor's prayer was answered. Gareth the Avatar stood in front of Doresain in all his glory, Warhammer in hand and shield glowing with divine energies. Gareth then fought back Doresain, with the army slaughtering the undead around him, and before he could land a killing blow Doresain fled.

With Gareth back on the material plane the Church seemed to rally, and with the efforts of Pelorian followers, as well as other churches, the undead were obliterated from the lands after twenty years of war. Gareth then stayed on this plane, as leader of the church, to help guide them and help them not forget the lesson they had learned. Unfortunately the lands the undead had scorched were not inhabitable and stay that way still. Illena healed once before, hopefully she can do it once again. The undead may be defeated for now, but that doesn't mean they are gone. The priests are still getting the visions and reports of darkness are still coming in from time to time.

This is where we begin our tale, a year after the undead were driven back and killed, with a small band of warriors, followers, and adventurers the church has employed. You are a small, yet powerful, group that works for the church to investigate goings on in the lands around you, and report directly to Gareth. You are a motley crew that is made up of many different races so that the peace of Illena stays that way between the living. Fighting amongst the living will only strengthen the dead's cause. Just having come back from a mission concerning some zombies, you have retired to your rooms for a good night's sleep. During this slumber, you all have the same dream:

Gareth and a horned demon you have never seen are in an epic battle. Each one with their weapon taking chunks out of the other, blood and flesh and bone being ripped apart and broken. Gareth then takes a hit of the demon's mace in the stomach, making him crumble to the floor. The demon then puts its cloven foot on Gareth's back and lets out a large bellow of a roar. The demon then brings down its mace, smashing Gareth's head between the mace and the ground. Skull, brain, and blood explode everywhere and the demons turns its eye on you, raising its mace once again and running towards you. It arrives in front of you and raises its mace, swinging it at you. The mace swings through the air, hitting......

You wake up in a cold sweat, grasping both your weapon and your sheets which are drenched in sweat. Never before has such a visions been bestowed upon you in such vivid detail. It is three in the morning, so you try to get some sleep until the morning. Once morning comes, you get ready as quickly as possible and head straight to Gareth's main meeting chamber, where he spends most of his time contemplating all the is going on int he world. You all arrive, oddly enough, at once and standing in front of him a quizzical look washes over his face and he sets some papers to the side, "May I help you, my friends? You could have waited till later to tell me of the zombies. It was not so dire that you come to me and tell me what happened as to warrant your early rise."

[Ridai]

Flames shoot to the ceiling as Niam wakes. It is in its own cell when not somewhere else on a mission, the ground, walls and ceiling long charred black, having no furniture (well, there was some, sparse as it was, but it did not last very long) and only a thick oily blanket wrapped over what little he has been given to protect said items from any sudden firebursts. Rare is the morning it doesn't awaken with dread, but the burst of actual fire marks an especially bad dream. The inquisitors and magisters instilled its subconscious to direct flame upwards if it cannot contain it to not endanger anyone immediately around him. It is also not allowed to sleep anywhere indoors that doesn't have a stone ceiling.

The Nightmare Engines on its arms are engaged and fully powered, the blue shine of the lapis lazuli set into the left gauntlet a cold counterpoint to the red-hot smoldering glow of the ruby in the right one. Niam disengages the ruby-bearing one after a minute of checking for actual threats. It leaves the defensive lapis running, however. The Nightmare Engines feed on its fears and make them worse... but the ruby is worse and doesn't protect.

Its door is not locked anymore, they don't fear that it could escape or sleepwalk anymore. Its steps are light, preferring to set the feet down towards the toes first, creating a careful tipper-tapper as it goes by in its slouched posture. Entering the chamber meant for anything important or public always requires some effort for it, expecting many withering stares directed at it like searing barbs, but ironically, fear drives it into the main chamber instead of letting Catherine know first.

Niam is not too tall with its 5' 9", appearing even smaller as it rarely stands upright, almost always in a posture of defense or anxiety. It is thin, wreathed in smudged thin robes covered in ash that still hang a bit from its body. Some people claim to see patterns akin to eyes open and close within the ash, but such a thing never revealed itself upon closer imagination, always just at the edge of vision. The sickly tint of its skin, the red eyes attributed to that of hellspawn, a tail emerging from the lower back and the ridged horns twisting out of the scalp quickly identify it as the inquisition's creature known as Niam (or, often enough, just "it"). Neither male nor female in shape, it just reeks of the unnatural (in addition to the constant odor of ash).

Standing before Gareth, Niam shrinks away especially much compared to the presence of even an inquisitor. "I-I s-s-saw a demon. Killing you. In d-dreams." If the others weren't there, Niam would have formed some sort of apology and tried to get away again without too much punishment. Rarely does anyone give weight to its delusions. It never learned how to handle being around Sherra, though, always reminding it of the times the inquisitors threw it before the hungry wolves to make the flames appear. But she never bit it, though, despite the occasional nightmare of such, which forms an immense comfort anyone but Catherine would punish him for.


(OOC: Is any member of the group designated as Niam's handler?)

[Irish Musician]

Gareth stares at the creature in front of him, Niam. Since he has been back he has yet to figure this little one out, but he can definitely tell he....she....it has had some type of hard life, and he is afraid the church had something to do with that. "A dream, little one? One in which I was killed by a demon?" Gareth gets a confused look on his face, not yet concerned, "Can you tell me more about it? Do you remember details? Do not fear me, Niam, speak your mind."

[Ridai]

Niam seizes up for a moment, eyes flitting about as if searching for some point on the floor and not finding it. "I-it was a big demon, with horns and a... a big mace and... cloven feet and you were fighting and there was a lot of blood and then he hit you badly and you went down and... crushed your head... and then it came running at me and.... and then I woke up..." The temperature around Niam has risen several degrees, not looking up and also painfully aware of his run-on sentence since the middle of it.

[GPuzzle]

Bludnum speaks a little bit, in a voice that looked older than his body.
"A demon, crushing the Avatar's head... and running towards you... That seems uncannily like a dream of my own, young man. Just as unnerving, perhaps. And certainly vivid. If someone else had that dream...", and before he finishes the phrase, he holds his staff with a tougher grip,"Catatosphre like never seen before might come."

[Philemonite]

"No, no,no, no, no. That won't do. You need to be more dramatic. You need to describe the scene in more details. The demon's imposing figure, his horns, his mace, his movements. You need to describe the feeling of fear, the look in the demon's eyes as he turns towards you, that final swing before you wake up. And whatever you do never forget that when you are retelling an epic battle you need to describe the surroundings, because that is also a vital part of the scene."
Normally, the speech and the hand gestures that followed it would be a strange sight for those who didn't know Queldion, but after a few missions most people learn to ignore it, focusing on the mater at hand.

[Irish Musician]

Gareth smiles and nods to Niam, "Do not worry, you are safe now, as am I. Just try to remember any small details that might help me find out what demon this is. But stay calm, no harm will befall you with me." Gareth thinks for a moment as if something hit him, "What did the mace look like, little one?" He then answers the others, "Did all of you have a similar dream last night?"

[GPuzzle]

"Perhaps not similar, but equal. Perhaps we all had the same dream."

[Ridai]

"I don't want to remember more details," Niam meekly answers to Queldion. It looks to Gareth for a moment, then back to the floor. There seems to be a hint of realization. "It wasn't one of my dreams. Nothing was on fire. I don't know if it glowed green. But there'll be more war."

[GPuzzle]

Bludnum opens an unwritten scroll, reaches for his pen, and starts scribbling something in it, before peeking out to Niam and saying:

"Perhaps, young man, we should ask other people about the dreams they've had. That way we might know if we all have had the same dream, which is, according to you, a dream that doesn't connect with your mind."

[Sartharina]

Sherra was first to wake, never going back to sleep after being awakened from the nightmare. She certainly appeared to be the last thing anyone would expect to see in a holy place, much less a church dedicated to pelor. A hyena twisted into a human shape, and an incredibly top-heavy profile. A long mohawk stiffened by bone dust and who-knows-what-else ran from her flat forehead all the way down her hunched neck, and numerous fresh scars and old wounds covered her bristled fur. Her large hands were clad in massive, shattered gauntlets that seemed to be coated in rust, with blackened cast-iron bracers binding her muscular, beige-spotted forearms. To say nothing of the hide armor covering her body, streaked with old blood and viscera, and conspicuously leaving her distinctly-masculine chest bare to show off her muscles and shoulders, though one strap runs to provide a skull pauldron over her left shoulder. Of course, the most controversial aspect of her would probably be an icon reminiscent of Erythnul's holy symbol dug into the flesh at the base of her collar.

"Glad to see Shinypants is still alive. I never dream," Sherra had announced as soon as she had entered, stretching and yawning irreverently. As she listened to the others speak, she nodded along. "Sounds right. Didn't recognize the demon, though. Not one Big Daddy Yee's associated with, at least."

[Nightraiderx]

Dan'or cooly observed everyone's reaction in the corner of thee room. So we all had the same dream, hm?
he thinks to himself, wondering how he ended up with this group to begin with... Dan'or closes his eyes, lost in thought.

[Infernally Clay]

"Their recollection is about right," Dust finally said. At first she had thought her dream to be just that, but if the others all had the same dream... "The demon had hooved feet and either could not speak or did not want to. Either way it was determined to kill you and succeeded."

Trying not to sound as if she didn't care, Dust offered a solution - "Working on the basis that this shared dream was in fact a vision, not unlike those priests receive, if you could describe to us any demons you know of that would be capable of killing one as powerful as you, perhaps we could narrow down our list of suspects and deal with your murderer preemptively."

[GPuzzle]

"Perhaps we should check some old tomes to see if this story of ours has happened before, and at which moment. Perhaps, that could lead us into what, exactly, does that vision mean..."

[Irish Musician]

Gareth's face started out as slight amusement, but has now grown into contemplation as your accounts of your dreams come to him. "Hmm, this does seem a little too much like visions to be just dreams. Not to mention how unlikely is it that 5 very different people would have the same dream all at once. I will consult the priests and see what they say. I will also have them look up references to powerful demons with the description you have given me." Gareth turns around and takes out some papers, writing down something, folding them over, then giving them a wax stamp to seal them. "I, however, have a job for you to do. There are reports in the west about undead roaming around and attacking some of the smaller villages from the Burrin Forest. It is said there are some ruins in that forest somewhere, so they may have found a home there." Gareth turns back around and gives you a map, "This should help narrow down where in the forest the ruins are, at least. The X's are where we think the ruins are, from passages in tomes and books. If you find any undead, you know what to do. May the light of Pelor guide you." He salutes you as you leave.

If anyone wants to do anything before you leave, have at it. I'll leave it up to you all to decide when you want to leave.

[Ridai]

Niam does not look at the map much, it has trouble seeing as is and doesn't want to touch it, afraid to burn it. It can hear the whispers, though it can't understand them at times (sometimes for the better, it believes).

The creature nods to Gareth, still ever nervous in front of the avatar, though not as deathly afraid as before the (now ex-)inquisitors. Naturally, it assumes its place following Queldion, but staying more towards the back of the group. However, before it leaves, it goes to see Catherine, to tell her that it is departing on a mission again and hopes to be back soon. It always does this. Seeing the human sister of the faith in her mid-twenties is always the last thing Niam does before leaving and the first thing when arriving.

Niam makes a History check about the ruins, using Guidance of the Past, not expending the power in the process.
Effect: Roll 2d20 and use one of the results for the check (in my case, the higher one). [roll0] + 10

edit: Final result is 28.

[Ridai]

Niam's flame-red eyes glaze over (or, rather, burn) for a moment, distant as it listens. "M-maybe the vampires are... hunting..." it suddenly says. It looks about at its companions, then quickly looks back down, fingering the rugged mechanical chaos of his Nightmare Engines.

[GPuzzle]

Bludnum finishes scribbling the story in his tome, closes it, and starts searching for a librarian or similar.
"Would you kindly search this story in your collection for us? Any references to time and location of where it was created would be appreciated, thank you."

And he starts walking towards the exit with surprising agility for a man who acts so old (he only acts, though - he is as old, if not younger, than Niam).

[Sartharina]

"So... more undead killing? Sounds good." Sherra chuckled, and turned to prepare to leave. "I'll scout ahead on the mission, keeping you guys within earshot."

[Ridai]

Niam nods in response to Sherra. It doesn't know about battlefield strategy and such, but it likes scouts. Scouts are good folks. They prevent surprises. Surprises often mean fire.

[Nightraiderx]

Dan'or cracks his neck, putting his fist into his open palm.
"I don't care if it's a lowly zombie or a high lich, if it's undead then it must be purged."

[Philemonite]

"Great, I was afraid we would run out of undead to fight, that would be a nightmare worse then the one I had this morning. I better start working on my armor right away, those zombies really did a number on it. While I'm at it I should probably paint a big red X on it. Even undead can understand that, right?"
Obviously this was not the right time for jokes, but Queldion had to do something to get rid of the tension. It was really getting him down. After a few complaints that nobody listened to, (all of his complaints are different ways of saying "nobody appreciates me") he waited for a few moments to see if anyone has anything to say to him before making his way towards the forge.

[Infernally Clay]

"That's one thing we'll never have to worry about," Dust sighed, "The undead's numbers will only thin when there aren't any more of us alive to turn into one."

[Ridai]

The silence is more than a little awkward after Queldion ends his tirade of complaints following the more relevant bits. Seeing as no one is saying anything or going to, Niam nervously looks at its handler, uncertainly responding "Umm... good... job?" Knitting its brows and grimacing from trying to see if that was the correct reaction (and failing), eventually shakily adding a tentative thumbs up encased in that nightmarish contraption it wears on its hands and lower arms, Niam's resolve starts to falter quickly, feeling even more awkward than before, seemingly becoming smaller by the second. It never learned not to listen.

[Sartharina]

Sherra got a chuckle from Queldion's snark, but then again almost anything could make her laugh. "Just don't take too long - the sooner we get moving, the sooner I can eat."

[Philemonite]

"That's one thing we'll never have to worry about," Dust sighed, "The undead's numbers will only thin when there aren't any more of us alive to turn into one."

For a few moments Queldion's demeanor shift and his expression becomes serious. For those who didn't know him it would be a surprise. However, his companions are quite aware of his constant attitude shifts.
"Please, dear lady, give us some credit for our work. We have banished quite a few of those things and I presume there are many others that are doing the same. We need to have faith that we will win this war."


"Umm... good... job?"

"Thank you, little one. At least someone appreciates what I do for this team."


"Just don't take too long - the sooner we get moving, the sooner I can eat."

It only takes one opportunity for a sarcastic remark for Queldion to shift back to his snarky persona, and Gnoll's response was a perfect opportunity.
"Well, painting the X will only take a few good strokes, however, it will need some time to dry. But do not worry, I will be ready on time. Maybe even a few minutes earlier."
One thing about his snarky comments was that you never know if he is just having fun or insulting you, and this situation was not different.

[Irish Musician]

Queldion goes to have his armor fixed as the rest of you get supplies together for the journey ahead. The forest you travel to is a two day Journey from the city. There is a town in between Anston and the Burrin Forest by the name of Tuin. Dust knows this city the best as it holds the main Temple to Kord. Dust knows many there who can put you up for the night, namely Bishop Roman. You will want to stay in towns and cities as much as possible in these lands, as most well know, for the night belongs to the undead and those out at night have not been known to resurface.

Soon after lunch you make you way to Tuin. The road is hard as it always has been. Ever since the undead have come back the lands the roads have gone slightly back to nature and have become not quite as trod on. You make it to Tuin by the time the sun has begun to set in the west and the guards, having started to close the gate, stop and let you in, as they do know who you are. The gate close with a resounding boom and the city is sealed.

The first thing you noticed walking up to the city was the very, very high walls. They stand 50 feet in the air and have guards posted at many towers that scatter it. There are large bells with the symbol of Kord on them at each tower so the guard may alert the city of any impending major threat. When you enter the city you see that it builds from the walls, up to the center of the city where a large Coliseum and Keep stand. Dust knows of both of these things well. The Coliseum is where all arguments are settled, as well as punishments being given out. The keep is the place in which the General of the town stays, as well as a giant drinking hall for celebrations after fights, however they turn out. Such is the town of Tuin.....such is the god of Thunder, Kord.

[Infernally Clay]

"Ahhhhhh... Do you smell that?" Dust asked, audibly breathing in, "That's the smell of... aggressive negotiation. Nothing like settling differences by busting a few heads."

To Dust, the constant threat of the undead was disheartening. It wasn't that they scared her, but that they were a mindless, endless, creature. Some days it felt like all anyone was doing was waiting for when they turned undead. It was true that the group she had joined was doing everything they could to fight the undead, but their plight felt like a heavy weight that would inevitably crush them all in time. How many people had she seen turn into the undead? How many had been her friends or closer still? How many others had to suffer as she did, only to become what had taken everything from them in the first place?

Yet Tuin was, to Dust, almost like a beacon of hope. She, like many of the people in this town, had been raised on the ideals held by Kord. Stubborn courage in the face of adversity was a major edict and this town reminded her of that every time she came here. Yes, the undead may be a terrible enemy but so what? Brooding on the futility of the conflict was a poor use of strength. It was the duty of the strong to lead the weak and Dust was strong. Besides, there were few better ways to vent one's frustration than the Coliseum, where plenty of people there were happy to fight.

Maybe I'll visit the Coliseum after everyone has settled in, Dust thought to herself, before saying "We should see Roman - sorry, the bishop here - about a place to stay. We go back quite far. Did I ever tell you that he was the man who stood by me, even when Kord chose not to bless me with his power? It was Roman who convinced me that there are other ways to serve The Great Brawler."

[GPuzzle]

"A city dedicated to Kord... Interesting. Lady, have you grown up listening to stories about warriors? I've got an idea that, perhaps, could give us more clue to where to go next. Certainly the Great Brawler has a place for his and his followers' stories. After all, they're legends, and they're legends because they're kept somewhere."

[Ridai]

Walking along the path between the cities, Niam doesn't seem to act much differently than before. Whatever this creature sees, it seems tense all the time, as if being safe behind walls surrounded by living, sentient beings is not much of a comfort. Sometimes it spots some pattern in their surroundings that grabs its attention or briefly looks at a plant with curiosity, the tension briefly diminished before it returns to its former state.

When they reach Tuin, Niam spends a lot of time with its head angled upwards both in the way to and from the gate, examining those very high walls. "I wonder how they built those walls and why they are so tall..." The bells also draw its attention, as does the Coliseum, unaware of what it is used for, just seeing the many arches in its side and the sheer size of it.

At Dust's mention of the smell, Niam's tension seems to rise a lot, also smelling the air to pick up on a warning sign, but not finding anything. It is not sure if that is good or bad. Hearing about Roman, it does offer a "That sounds nice," not because of the worship or getting a place to stay aspect, but because of the supporting one.

[roll0] + 10

Final result: 22

[Sartharina]

Sherra wonders what the nightlife of this city's like, but probably just wants to shack up somewhere safe for the night. "... just another bump in the road. I'm just hoping to get some sleep in safety, so we can move out of here faster," the gnoll said, partially from the urgency of the mission, and partially from missing out on three hours of sleep. Having a crepuscular circadian rhythm isn't very effective when she needs to spend the day moving, and the nights hiding.

[Irish Musician]

Dust takes you all to the Main temple at the top of the city. You walk through the city up to the top of the city and as you look back on where you came from you notices something oddly strategic about this city. All of the buildings are staggered and if the city were to be under siege, it looks as though archers could be put on top of the buildings in defense. That crafty old Kord.

When you finally make it to the Temple/Keep you enter it and there is a medium sized entry room. There are a couple of statues of Kord off to either side with little places to kneel and some candles you can light. About 20 feet from the front door, there are two large doors that are closed. You open them and your jaw drops. What you see in front of you is a drinking hall that would rival most castles in size. The ceilings are 80 feet tall and there are torches that go all the up to the top on the sides of the pillars. The back of the hall reaches back 200 feet and there are tables with chairs covering pretty much any spare space, save for a small isle down the center. Large, impressive portraits of battles litter the walls, showing the many exploits of Kord's followers. There are also portraits of all the Bishops that have been in power throughout the years on the walls. At the moment there is no one in there, but Dust knows exactly how crazy this room can get.

She takes you through the room and through a door at the other end. When you do through that very back door, you enter what looks like an office. In the office there are a few barrels scattered through it, on their side, so you can open up the faucet and gran some ale or mead. There is a large desk with tankards made from horns here and there. Behind it is a large man dressed in plate armor. There is the biggest axe you have ever seen sitting right behind him. He is bald, but he has a beard that might rival those of dwarves, and as red as can be. Looking at some papers he looks up at you, piercing blue eyes scanning all of your faces until he lands on Dust's. A giant smile spreads across his face, "DUST!! MY GIRL!!!" The large man jumps up from his desk with amazing speed and grabs Dust in his very large arms, picking her up and spinning her around, and setting her back down. "What in the nine hells are you doing here, my child?! Come! Come with me all of you."

He leads you in to the hall and lets out a large bellow in the Hall, "BRING FOOD AND DRINK!" He sits you all at a table and some large plates of customized food appears before you, as well as your drink of choice. "Now, tell me, how have you been? And who are all your friends? Part of that undead killing squad you teamed up with for 'ol GAreth?" By now you have guessed that this is Roman, Bishop of Kord and unlike any Bishop you have ever laid eyes on. Most Bishops are old men in robes, and while white is encroaching into his beard and taking over, he looks as though he would be able to take on the whole group and beat you all into a bloody pulp. His approach is boisterous but he is a good soul.

[GPuzzle]

When Roman comes running towards Dust, Bludnum drops his staff and jumps backwards, screaming, as if surprised, in a voice that is more fitting to his body than the one he talks in.

He picks up the staff from the ground and tries to appear normal, walking behind the group.

[Ridai]

"Oh, built by a god, makes sense. I wonder if Kord built everything physically or with miracles."

When Roman suddenly comes charging, those of the group who are familiar with Niam can see the predictable reaction coming, but can't do much about it given how fast everything happens. Niam's red eyes widen, stumbling away, the scream of surprised fear partially drowned out by the roaring, all-consuming hellfire the creature erupts in, both Nightmare Engines running at full capacity, the protective blue light of the lapis barely shining through the flames while the furious red light of the ruby only further fuels Niam's fears and flames. It is about to begin to scorch the threat out of existance when Roman grabs Dust and spins her around, which makes it stop. The notion of no threat being present cuts itself through the fear until it reaches the conscious mind until Niam disengages the ruby again, the flames on its form slowly dying, horribly charred skin returning to normal, but it still cowers, still shakes in fear. It will take a while for the edge of the incident to disappear again.

Afterwards, Niam just keeps quiet, eyes directed at the floor though glancing about every once in a while. Hunger is gone and it keeps itself away from any flammable liquid, just nursing a cup of water.

[Infernally Clay]

Dust introduced her friends to Roman, then recounted many of the dangerous adventures she had been on since the last time she saw him. A few embellishments were added here and there to make herself sound a little more impressive than she was, but what warrior of Kord wouldn't take any opportunity to brag about their feats of bravery and strength? Kord never said anything about being humble. Every so often, Dust would point to one of the group and get them to describe some detail or other and continue on with her stories. As a bishop of Kord, Roman was a man that Dust wanted to impress. Consciously, it was due to his fatherly relationship with her. Subconsciously, perhaps, she hoped he might put in a good word for her with Kord himself. As much effort as she put into fighting in her god's name, Dust couldn't pretend that she would be capable of much more with Kord's blessing.

Once everyone had eaten their fill and after she had drunk enough ale to make an elephant pass out, Dust finally brought up why she and the others had arrived. "We are on our way to the Burrin Forest to root out the undead there. Apparently villages near to it have been attacked. Well, attacked more frequently than usual. Gareth believes they may have set up shop in some ruins in the forest, so we're looking for ruins there... Do you think there are any books or scripts here that could help us narrow down where the ruins might be?"

[Irish Musician]

Roman listened to all the stories Dust share, laughing big, boisterous laughs and clapping all of them on the shoulders and hugging them. After many stories and a couple of hours passing, Dust gets to business and Roman nods along. When asked about the books or scrolls Roman's brow furrows and thinks, "Hmmmm, I can't think of any off the top of my head, my dear. Of course I have never been one for the books and libraries, as you know, HAHAHA!!" Roman's laugh echos through the hall, "But you are more than welcome to go check our scrolls and books. When you are done you have your old room you can sleep in, obviously. And your friends here will have rooms made up for them. They can go now to them, or explore around." Roman turns to Niam, "And don't you worry yourself little....whatever you are. You won't be hurting anything in this hall, so go crazy!" Roman walks over to a table a few down, picks it up, and smashes it into another table, breaking them both into splinters. "You'll see in the morning, those'll be as good as new!" Roman spends a few more minutes pointing out the way to the library and your rooms, assuring you all that Dust will take good care of you all, and takes his leave. "There is breakfast here in the morning, so feel free to have some."

[Ridai]

Niam winces as the table is smashed, then looking at the splinters with an inclined head and confused frown because of the pointless destruction. It also is not sure how to feel about being encouraged to burn the house down. Kord's people do good work, but Niam can't help but find them a bit unsettling at times.

The library is considered for a moment, but then it remembers being forbidden from going near tomes, not to mention having difficulties reading at times. Sleep likewise is a double-edged sword, needing enough sleep, but no more. That leaves the coliseum. Though the voices (and Dust, to an extend) told it what it is used for, perhaps it can at least get a look at the architecture and the inside of it.

[GPuzzle]

As the tables we're broke by the boisterous Bishop, Bludnum dropped his staff - but this time, he waited until Roman leaved to say something, and he spoke in the same voice that let the scream early on:
"Is it just me, or is the guy insane? Just saying."
He then picks it up and proceeds to go towards the library.

[Irish Musician]

You spend the night doing that you will, sleeping, reading, eating and drinking more if you want to, and head out early the next morning. The library didn't have much in it to help you, but at least you are no worse off than before....you think at least. You are greeted in the hall by Roman and there is a large breakfast feast laid out for you all, with all of you favorite foods. Niam notices that the tables that were destroyed the night before are back to normal and whole again. You eat your fill and then say your goodbyes to Roman, thank him for all his hospitality. You know this is the most dangerous part of your trip, as you may very well have to stay not in a town, which can be a very dangerous prospect.

The road you set out on, again, has started to grow grass, weeds, and the like and it gets harder and harder to see the road before you. You travel the day and it is starting to get late, the sun is getting close to the horizon. You need to either keep going or find a place to sleep, to avoid the undead. You know that in another day there is a larger town that seems to do well as far out as they are, but where you are now not many towns have done well. To your north the forest is just starting to take form and to your south there are some kills that may have a cave or two you can sneak in for the night.

[Ridai]

Niam is silent as they walk along the road, but grows more nervous as the light fades. Once at their current implied crossroads, it looks with worry at the forest. Much rather would it try to find a hiding spot to the south, and this is clear to anyone watching it. The last thing they need is a forest fire.

[GPuzzle]

Bludnum keeps scribbling in his tome until the last moment of light, and by this point, even him does not know what in the world is he scribbling there.

[Sartharina]

Sherra hunts ahead of and around the group, as normal, keeping an eye out for hints of various types of shelter. Her great speed allowed her to range rather far from the group without risking falling behind, as well as providing excellent coverage of the surrounding area. She was also essentially unseen.